Know Thy Neighbour
It's often said that in London, nobody knows their neighbours. We all live in high rise blocks and dash in from work without so much as a nod of acknowledgement in the lift. We lock the door and ignore all those outside of it. We wouldn't know the name of the person whose front door faced ours, let alone the name of the old lady who we held the front door open for the other day. But it's not always true. Today I went to a funeral. The funeral of a neighbour. We always invite our neighbours to parties and they invite us around in return. We even have a neighbour on our pub quiz team (and a few neighbours are on rival teams, too). We know at least twenty of our neighbours (in a block with 60 or so flats) by name. When we went to the funeral service today, we arrived to find other neighbours stepping out of taxis, some already waiting by the church door. All talking, and swapping stories of Jean and how much we would miss her around the building. We all sat togeth