Neville’s neighbour Shelia is the devil. She has horns and a tail; he can hear them every time she complains.
Her husband revs his car at 3am and she squawks about Neville vacuuming at a normal time.
Neville’s Dad is eighty-eight, he doesn’t get out much and his hearings’ not good. He needs the volume on the telly up but it’s not loud. He’s told his friends to close doors gently, but it’s ridiculous tiptoeing round his own house.
It’s not Neville’s fault the walls are so thin.
He just wants to be left in peace; to live his life.