The perils of WhatsApp!

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During the COVID pandemic, several local WhatsApp groups were set up in case neighbours needed any help. Of course nobody did then, but the group for our little road still exists and nowadays generally gets used for lost cats, offers of excess fruit or searches for missing parcels. This is a bit difficult to explain but the road, although it’s in a suburban village, is more like a country lane, just wide enough for one car and along one side there is a high earth bank, covered in grass and with a footpath along the top. All the houses on that side of the road have entrances that cut through the bank. Last year one of the houses was sold and the new owners started on a major building project. This involved lots of big lorries delivering materials and resulted in the corners of the bank being completely demolished. Neighbours along the road were a bit concerned it might be completely trashed, so in February the owner of the house responsible wrote an apologetic note on the WhatsApp group explaining that they were waiting for some final work to be done by the utility companies before they would reinstate the grassy bank. Fast forward six months and so far it hasn’t happened. They did make a half-hearted attempt to pile some soil up there, but this week we have had lots of torrential rain showers and heavy vehicles have also driven over it again so now we just have a patch of rutted mud. So this morning, after walking past and noticing the poor state, I posted a message saying ‘Just wondering when the bank and footpath outside number xx will be restored?’ I did wonder whether to post it to the group, but decided to go ahead since the original message about the bank had been posted to the group by the owner. And I didn’t think my query was offensive in any way. It would be a simple matter for her to let everyone know that it would be sorted out. Well, about five minutes later I was at home when she ‘phoned and launched into a rant. She started by saying that her mother had recently died (for which I expressed my condolences) then went on to say that she didn’t agree with being publicly shamed, she wasn’t going to let anyone bully her, she had been warned about the people living in this area and what a lot of suburban curtain-twitchers we are and how I should get a hobby, do some work for charity, get a life and just f*ck off. She went on about all her expensive building work, how she also didn’t like all the mud getting on her expensive gravel and how she had needed to put slabs down for her mother’s wheelchair when she was ill, how she had been away in rural Lincolnshire, where she grew up, and how she had no bother there with neighbours and knew all about rural life and had a shotgun licence (no idea what this had to do with anything unless it was some sort of veiled threat!); how she had to learn how to take care of a very sick elderly person; how she had lived in London and had some sort of high-flying fancy job and all her neighbours there had been lovely clever, intelligent people who were all Dr this and Professor that; what trouble she had had with builders who went off to other jobs without finishing off the last few things; how she wasn’t able to put down turf because it would need watering and since we currently are under a hose-pipe ban due to drought no doubt she would be reported for watering the grass by her nosey curtain-twitching suburban neighbours; how she had had to cope with her father’s death 15 years ago; how she had given me the opportunity to apologise but I hadn’t taken it (why would I apologise for asking a simple question?); how the delivery drivers were not as careful as they should be; how she took time to visit the sick; how she also didn’t like the messy look outside her expensive house… She went on in this vein, repeating herself many times and only pausing a couple of times for a sip of something, for almost an hour – 56 minutes and 25 seconds to be precise. I was impressed at her stamina! Apart from saying I was sorry about her mother I basically didn’t say anything, just let her go on and on. It would have been easy to get drawn into a slanging match but I didn’t want to lower myself to her level when I haven’t actually done anything wrong. Luckily she didn’t actually leave any intervals when I might have got even a single word in anyway. I put the ‘phone on speaker and just got on with checking emails, hanging up the washing and putting dishes away while she ranted. I was just sorry that I couldn’t think of a way of recording the monologue. Eventually she stopped, concluding her diatribe by saying that she didn’t know anything about me – clearly! She then called another neighbour who had agreed with my post and gave him an ear-bashing as well, but he told her he wasn’t putting up with her nonsense, didn’t care a stuff about how much money she had or where she came from, and put the phone down and then reported the interaction on the group. I don’t actually know this person at all, only her name, address and ‘phone number. I wouldn’t know her if I bumped into her on the street. However I do know a lot more about her now than I did before! And I’m really hoping I don’t actually meet her. So we await developments with interest! Here are some pretty flowers to make us all feel better after that. All rights reserved. © Text and image copyright Fleur 2025.