Rude Awakening

A few weeks after moving in, I’m in for a rude awakening. Literally. Around half past three one Saturday night/early Sunday morning, a knock on the door wakes me.

Who is it? I ask groggily.

It’s the neighbour downstairs...he begins.

He claims that there’s flooding in his flat and that the source of the flow is coming from mine. He demands to be let in to check.

But it’s late…

He raises his voice and insists. As if I’m being unreasonable. 

I’m bewildered. 

It would be hard enough making myself understood in English at that time of night. I don’t have the presence of mind to ask him what the heck he intends to do, even if the leak were coming from my flat. Unless he’s a plumber. Neither do I consider calling the police, as I should. I’m concerned he’ll wake up the neighbours. Reluctantly -foolishly- I let him in. Another male hovers in the corridor, looking sheepish. I take it he’s the boyfriend. Judging from his nervous disposition, he has little control over this volatile character.

He storms into my flat, ignoring my polite request to put on the house slippers.

I don’t know if you’re aware, he proffers, but this is the third time water has leaked from your flat into ours.

No, I wasn’t aware.

How could I be when I’ve lived there less than a month? Besides, it rained heavily the evening before. It doesn't occur to me to remind him of that.

I show him the toilet, shower and laundry. No leak. To his great surprise.

A next door neighbour intervenes. He too has experienced flooding. The intruder leaves, nary an apology.

My sister is livid when I inform her of the sorry affair by voice note. I turn the victim blaming in on myself. I feel as if I've fulfilled the cliché of the weak, impressionable woman. If I had been male, he would have more likely backed off.

If only I didn't let him in...stood up for myself better.  

That's not the point, counters sis, He should have never thought it appropriate to bother you at that time of night. He's out of his mind...

She urges me to inform the landlord, Tete. I don’t anticipate he can do much, being based in Hong Kong but he’s more sympathetic than expected. 

Tete denies any history of flooding. He suggests I notify the building management company. Rumour has it they’re useless. On the other hand, I don’t have much choice. 

I ask a Francophone colleague to proofread my email to the team. She’s horrified. As are my other colleagues. As is pretty much everyone to whom I recount the incident. The guilty party himself, however, sees it another way.

By chance – or misfortune-we come across each other the following weekend. We’re both heading towards the metro. I barely recognise him by the light of day. We exchange greetings. He hastens to get away.

You’re my neighbour, no?

Before I interrogate further he blurts out..

Yes, apologies for the other night once again.

Again? I wasn’t aware he apologised the first time.

I’ve not been sleeping well all week (no thanks to him). Fatigue robs me of linguistic fluidity. Neither do I find it easy to defend myself in French, in most circumstances. Not that I should have to. Yet Mr Mercurial has a way of making it seem like I’m the irrational one. He keeps demanding I see it from his perspective. As if disturbing me in the wee small hours was as unnerving for him as it was for me.

He becomes aggressive. Again. I am reproached for not seeing his point of view.  

He flounces off, barking at me for not accepting his apology. After a few moments, I approach him on the platform.

FYI. If it happens again, I’m involving the authorities. I declare.

Our conversation continues on the train, with quizzical glances from onlookers.  I insist his apology his half-hearted and self-justifying. He rudely queries my linguistic capacities, assuming it’s a comprehension problem. 

No! I say, drawing the line This is unacceptable. 

He makes wild accusations about my landlord being taken to court over previous flooding. I discover later that they are unsubstantiated.  

I’m so distracted by the conversation I miss my stop. Softening slightly, he invites me round to discuss further. I have no intention of interacting with this unstable character more than necessary. The most useful element of the exchange was knowing exactly which flat he occupies. For future reference.