When an attractive middle-aged woman moved into the vacant semi-detached next door, I vowed look but don't touch. That resolution lasted until she returned to take the suitcases from her boot. I offered to help with her bags. She accepted a neighbourly cup of tea and I left her to wait for the removal truck arriving with her furniture.
She knew I'd be watching from behind net curtains, like the other neighbours in our cul-de-sac. Gloria Standish was only five foot four, but as she stood hands on hips directing burly removal guys, they'd probably come to the same conclusion as I had. Those blokes would run through walls for a smile from the green-eyed blond. She knew her effect on men. Gloria was skilled at dialling it up and down. She looked high maintenance, and five years after my financially and emotionally devastating divorce, I was not a candidate to impress a woman like her. Like I said, look, but don't touch.
The non-arrival of Mr Standish and her occasional disappearances for days on end, when a smart limo would arrive and whisk a well-dressed Gloria and her wheeled suitcase away, had me speculating on how she earned a crust. My deductions ran from high-powered executive to high-powered courtesan. Gloria was in my dreams with predictable results. Five years of celibacy leaves you on a hair trigger.
My non relationship with Gloria changed in an instant. I could see into her garden from my bedroom. The previous owner had not cared for it and Gloria's half-hearted attempts ended at planting a few border plants from the supermarket. Because of her haphazard absences, they often went unwatered for days. I got into the habit of holding my hosepipe over the fence to give her plants a fighting chance. One day I heard a shriek, followed by some rather coarse swearing. I grabbed a bucket to stand on and leaned over the fence.
Unbeknown to me, Gloria had been catching some late rays laying on her lounger in her white vest and knickers. I had soaked both.
"What the hell are you doing Neils?" Her wet hair looked very sexy. As did her now transparent underwear.
"I'm so sorry Gloria. I didn't know you were back. When you are away, I water your plants. They'll die from your neglect."
Several thoughts flashed across her face. Gratitude for my neighbourly kindness; resentment at my criticism of her gardening skills; and finally annoyance at my interest in the peep show she was treating me to. My soaking revealed her brown bud nipples and a distinct cleft of bare pussy lips. I thought she'd be embarrassed and cover up, but Gloria was made of sterner stuff. She was used to men admiring her body. She stood hands on hips, and forced me to look her in the eye.
"I suppose you could do better, Neils?"
"Why don't you pop round and see for yourself?"
She was about to accept when she realised her state of undress. Gloria pulled a step ladder to the fence and looked over.
I was proud of my gardening since I'd moved in four years ago. It took the sting out of her.
"Oh, it's lovely Neils."
"It looked like yours before I started. Yours could be like this, Gloria. With a little help."
She looked again and began talking about all the plants she liked. Our faces were almost level. Her green eyes were overpowering. She turned to me and recognised my distractedness.
"Did you hear anything I said Neils?"
I shook my head. "Write a list of jobs and I'll see what I can do."
She smiled and peered down the fence. "Where's your ladder Neils?"
"I'm six foot four Gloria. A bucket will do."
She seemed to appraise me for a moment. "Well, thanks for looking after my plants while I'm a way. And thank you for offering to help with my garden. I'll let you know. And Neils, thank you for not staying there and staring at my bum in these transparent knickers while I climb down."
"You ask a lot of a man, Gloria." I got off the bucket.
I heard her laughing. "Good night, Neils."
#
I thought we were doing well. Occasional trips to the garden centre with lunch in their restaurant afterwards. Not dates, but closer than just neighbours. On our third trip, I opened up about my backstory. A sad tale of two marriages broken, and a business destroyed when my wife and my business partner had their affair. I'd left Malmo for a lucrative job in the UK offshore industry to pay the crippling alimony we Swedes are world famous for. "So that's the story of Neils Sorensen, Gloria. Quite a catch."
It was her cue to share, but Gloria did not rise to the bait. "My past is complicated, Neils. God knows what you and the other neighbours make of my comings and goings in a chauffeur driven limo every couple of weeks."
I tried to keep my face neutral, but she read my mind. She clammed up, and that annoyed me.
"Is he married, Gloria?"
She glared at me, then softened. "He was married to me first, then we parted. He's married to someone else now, but we work together."
"His new wife must be very understanding."
"I think she's happier Theo is making money again." My stare prompted her. "He's an oil trader. He gambles millions of dollars a day. Theo thinks I'm his lucky charm. Greek men are so superstitious."
Gloria saw I was not comfortable with her world. "Neils you are a nice man. Let's just be good neighbours, and not get into anything either of us would regret. Neither of us would want to move."
As brush off's go, I've had worse. I still helped with her planting, but it was a watershed in our relationship and we reverted to the occasional chat, with Gloria always being the one to break off first.
Football brought us back together. I was in my garden when I heard Gloria had company. Another woman and a young boy.
"Don't kick the ball against the fence Charlie, you'll annoy Neils."
"Then you play football with me nanny. Mum is rubbish."
"I am not. I'm better than her."
There was a lot of shrieking, then the ball sailed over into my garden. They fell silent. I threw it back, to their mumbled apologies. The third time it happened I held the ball up on my side of the fence.
"You are all useless footballers."
They debated who should retrieve it before dragging a ladder. A face appeared over the fence. She looked like a younger version of Gloria. A pretty face, blonde hair and blue eyes. I put her in her early thirties, but I'm terrible with women's ages.
"Hello Neils. I apologise for my mother's wayward kicking. If she'd introduced us, this would be less embarrassing."
She reached for the ball and I shook her hand. "There, now we are introduced. You know I'm Neils and you are?"
"Andrea, it's a pleasure." She had the same direct look her mother used to ensnare men. "You've got a lovely garden Neils. Mum you should ask Neils for some tips." Andrea's sly smile told me Gloria had filled her in on our abortive relationship. Gloria was making embarrassed noises and me and Andrea shared the joke.
"Let me see mum."
Andrea climbed down and returned with a small boy on her shoulders. "This is Charlie, he's five. Say hello to Neils."
"Hello Neils. Wow, look at your grass. It's like a football pitch. Not like Gran's lumpy rubbish."
"Well, you are all welcome to come over for a game. Especially Gloria." They looked at her and we all grinned.
We used empty flowerpots for goalposts and had two-a-side games. When Charlie scored, he celebrated with his tee shirt over his head. I did the same.
"Neils has a chest like a bear mum." I ruffled Charlie's hair and winked at Andrea who blushed. Gloria gave me a sour look for flirting with her daughter.
When Gloria scored, we waited. "I'm wearing a vest with no bra underneath. I'm not doing that."
Andrea scored the next one and looked straight at me before whipping her vest up. She had a sports bra underneath, but it did nothing to disguise her pointy nipples. "Got to play the game properly Neils." She winked at me. I dared not look at Gloria's reaction.
They stayed for lunch. I did the Scandinavian open sandwich thing. The concept blew Charlie's mind. "Wait until I tell Ryan you can have a sandwich with only one piece of bread."
Gloria had to take a phone call, and Charlie wanted to practise his dribbling skills around the flowerpots. Leaving me and Andrea together.
"Am I what you were expecting, Andrea?"