Christina was wary of her neighbours.

She lived on a peaceful street in a little town in the middle of nowhere, where you might be excused for believing that people still dropped by their neighbours' houses for a cup of sugar. However, beneath the vertical blinds and carefully manicured hedges, a tangle of secrets and gossip simmered. Nothing in this community, not even Christina herself, could be accepted at face value at an era when keeping one's face was important.

Christina lived on a little street that ended in a cul-de-sac. Christina, who was just 27 years old and had short ringletted brown hair, was by far the youngest of her neighbours. Mrs Johnsons lived just across the street from her unremarkable grey home. Mrs Johnsons was usually out in her yard, caring for flowers, pansies, petunias, and the like, smiling and waving to each passing. Christina had always questioned why she spent so much time in her garden, which was a thriving hive of life. Mrs Johnsons had always reminded her of Mrs Gladys Kravitz from the TV programme 'Bewitched'. At first glance, she appears to be perfectly pleasant, but she is constantly watching, talking about, and reporting on her neighbours. Christina felt the gardening was really a pretext.