It's six thirty in the morning; it's been nearly twelve months since I retired and I'm still getting up at this ungodly hour. Hard to break the habits of a life time, I suppose.

This is what I'm thinking as I make my way through the back streets to get a packet of ciggies and a morning paper, on a wet and windy morning, but at least it's stopped raining.

As I make my way down Odsey Street, I can hear music from somewhere in the distance. Crossing Needham Road, and on into Dell Street. I begin to realise which house the music is blaring out of. Its windows are wide open, pushed up as far as they can go, the curtains flapping about, being whipped up by a strong wind coming up from the river.

As I pass by the music stops for a moment. There's a brief silence then it starts up again. I take a quick glance inside as I pass by, but I can't really see anything. All I can make out is a faint glow which could have been either a table lamp or a T.V.

In the paper shop Davey, one of my neighbours, has just been served. He turns, greets me in the usual way, "All right Tom, still getting up early I see." "Old habits, they die hard," I reply adding "you on earlies this week?"
"Yeah, still could be worse. Did you hear that racket in Dell Street," he adds. "The music if that's what you call it, bit loud isn't it"

"Yeah, an I think it's been going all night. I was passing on my way home from the pub last night about eleven, and it was going full blast then. Weird thing is," he said as he opened the door, setting the bell above it jangling, standing there half in and half out of the shop, "I was just wondering if she was, well yeah know OK. I mean anything could have happened to her, she could be laying there badly hurt or something. I'd go and check myself but I'll be late for work.'
"Sure.
"So."
"Right."

He winks as he steps outside, the door closing behind him. Christ, thanks Davey", I say to myself. After buying my paper and ciggies, I step out into Holt Road, and head towards Dell Street. I'm not looking forward to this. I know exactly whose place this is and the name the locals have given the woman who lives there. Mad Lizzie, not because she was mad or anything like that, but because she was a nasty piece of goods.

As I approach the house the music is still blaring out. I poke my head through the open window, at the same time asking if everything is OK, I can see Lizzie, she is sitting in an armchair away from the window. She looks over at me and says something. I can't hear her because of the music. I shout, telling her to turn the music down, so's I can hear her. She heaves herself out of the chair, looks over at me telling me to F... off.

Next minute the front door opens and out steps this enormous woman. I'm slightly down wind of her. The stench hits me as if it were something solid, stale sweat, booze, tobacco, and something else, God she stinks. I try to step around her, get down wind. All the time this woman is haranguing me. Christ she's big, must be about 24 stone. I try to tell her that I was just trying to see if she was all right, but she is having none of it.

I hear a voice from across the street asking if I need any help, it belongs to little Jenny Mac. I turn my head to tell her I'm OK, when this woman starts pushing me. She's got hands as big as shovels. I take a couple of faltering steps backwards when all of a sudden Jenny Mac is at my side ushering me out of the way, saying to mad Lizzie to pick on someone younger, and not some poor old man, and her no bigger than tuppence. Dressed only in her nightie with a coat thrown over the top, she must have weighed all of eight stone.

Jenny is telling Lizzie where she could go, and to turn that bloody music down when Lizzie charges at her. For a big woman she could move pretty fast, and the full force of her body slams into Jenny full on sending her sprawling backwards into a large puddle left by the over night rain. Jenny lands flat on her back in the puddle, looking a bit dazed. Lizzie is yelling at her, telling her what she would and wouldn't do to her if she didn't mind her own bloody business.

When I noticed the colour on Jenny's face change, it was going a deep purply red sort of colour. Jenny stands up flinging her arms backwards so's the coat would just slide off her arms, which it does. Then she launches herself at Lizzie hissing and spitting,. Her hands are like claws, fingers like talons.

All of a sudden Jenny is on top of Lizzie, biting, screeching, tearing at her hair for all she's worth. Lizzie is screaming trying to get her off. They're like two alley cats having a fight. Lizzie's left arm is between her own body and that of Jenny, trying to push her off.

Her right arm is free. Jenny is starting to weaken a little. Lizzie is able to push her back about a foot or two, then Liz's right hand comes in a swinging arc, palm open. Her open hand smacks into the left side of Jenny's face. It breaks her hold on Lizzie, and sends her staggering sideways for a few paces. Lizzie's respite lasts no longer than a couple of seconds, Jenny shoots right back at her, grabbing handfuls of Lizzie's matted hair. Lizzie has a tight hold of Jenny's upper arms, her dirty finger nails digging into what little flesh there is there. Jenny is starting to weaken and Lizzie knows it. She tightens her grip on Jenny's arms, digging her nails in deeper. Blood is starting to run down Jenny's arms, she knows what will happen to her if she was to let go of Lizzie. She has to do something quick.

So she does what all good street fighters do, she throws her head back, and before Lizzie can do anything about it she's struck a string of buts on Lizzie, five, six, maybe seven times. Jenny's forehead makes contact with Lizzie's face. Lizzie's nose explodes, the flesh both above and below her left eye is cut, blood is pouring down her face. Lizzie's grip on Jenny's arms weakens and falls away, her legs buckle, Lizzie slumps to the ground. Jenny stands gulping in huge lungs full of air, for a few moments. Then she steps over Lizzie, goes into her house and turns the music down.

Of course by this time a number of people have gathered to watch the spectacle. Jenny comes back out, stands over Lizzie who's still lying where she'd fallen. Looking down at her she says, "If that bloody music ever goes any louder than it is now I'll come back over here and we'll do this again. Do you hear me?" Lizzie doesn't answer, Jenny shoves her with her foot saying, "Do you understand me!" Lizzie nods, answers with a feeble "yes".

With that one of the women who'd been one of the onlookers comes over, putting an arm around Jenny says, "Come on love, let’s get you back home." Leading Jenny away she stoops down and scoops up Jenny's sodden coat from out of the puddle into which it had fallen.
Looking back over her shoulder she says to the other onlookers,
"Somebody should call for an ambulance as I think Lizzie’s going to need a few stitches.”