“You can have the same neighbors for years.” the old man said . “You love them , or you think you love them . And you hope they love you . But do you ever really understand them?” “Charlie Kemp and his family lived next door to me for fifteen years . We were good friends for all that time . I enjoy friendship — I’m sure it’s the best thing in the world . And friendship wi th t he Kemps was easy , because they seemed to welcome it . ” “They were interesting and clever people , but they were always in some sort of trouble . It was usually illness or accident , but there were other things too . For example their house caught fire twice , and twice the whole family slept in mine . They were always losing things—money , keys , a watch , a camera . Pictures fell off the walls; the children fell out of bed .. . I used to wake in the morning and think: what will happen?’ ” “I was their neighbor and their friend . Life was always interesting , never dull . Best of all , I liked the whole family . ” “One day I made a fire in my garden and was burning some rubbish . After a time Charlie Kemp came out of his house and walked up the road . ‘Morning Charlie , ’ I said . ‘Lovely day , isn’t it ? , He smiled and nodded . I went on with my work . ” “Twenty minutes later a policeman arrived . He walked into my garden and said: ‘You’ll have to put out that fire . Your neighbor has complained to us . He doesn’t like the smell’ . ” “‘My neighbor....?’ I said.” “Yes.’ The policeman took out his notebook and asked . ‘ Charlie Kemp , He lives next door , doesn’t he?’”