Out of the Kindness of My Heart: How I Got Stabbed in the Back by the Neighbour I Just Wanted to Help
Emily steps out of her terraced house in a quiet suburb of Manchester, heading to her car—just another ordinary workday ahead. Right then, her neighbour, Charlotte, emerges onto the doorstep.
“Morning!” Emily lowers the car window and gives a cheerful wave. “Hop in, I’ll give you a lift!”
“Oh, thanks ever so much!” Charlotte beams, settling into the passenger seat.
“We’re heading the same way anyway. I can pick you up every morning if you’d like.”
“That’d be brilliant. The bus is such a slog—I’m knackered before I even get there.”
Little does Emily know how this simple act of kindness will backfire.
Charlotte is a single mum with two boys. Her husband walked out when the youngest was barely three. Since then, she’s juggled work, the school run, and household chaos, often relying on her elderly parents to help with the kids.
Emily, meanwhile, has a comfortable life—a loving husband, a son, a steady job. She genuinely wants to help her worn-out neighbour, who seems to have forgotten what joy feels like.
“I finish at six most evenings. If it suits, I can drop you back too,” Emily offers one day.
“That’d be perfect! Saves me time and bus fare. And God knows there’s always a mountain of chores waiting at home.”
They grow close quickly—chatting about life, men, and kids during the hour-long commute. There’s plenty of time to share stories and lean on each other.
At one point, Emily even convinces her husband to buy the neighbour’s boys some treats for Christmas, pretending they’re from a charity drive at work.
“Our Jack’s too old for sweets now,” she explains to Charlotte.
“Really? And we don’t have to pay a penny?” Charlotte eyes her suspiciously.
“Of course not,” Emily lies with a smile.
But one morning, everything shifts.
“Mind if my eldest tags along from now on?” Charlotte asks abruptly. “His new school’s near my work.”
“I suppose so. But where will he go during the day?”
“He’ll stay in after-school club. Or hang about in the storeroom at my office if needed,” Charlotte replies dismissively.
From then on, Emily chauffeurs both Charlotte and her son. Sometimes it’s inconvenient—she could leave earlier or stay later—but she feels obligated.
Then one day, the boy starts kicking the back of her seat.
“Oliver, please don’t do that,” Emily says calmly.
“Since when do you get to tell my son what to do? Just because you’re well-off, you think you can boss us around?” Charlotte snaps.
“I was just asking. I thought we were friends…” Emily falters.
After that, an icy tension settles between them. The cheerful chats dry up. When Emily’s car breaks down and she suggests sharing taxi costs, Charlotte cuts her off.
“I haven’t got money to burn! I’ll take the bus, thanks!”
“But my back’s killing me, and lugging shopping alone is a nightmare,” Emily tries to explain.
“Your problem, not mine. Hire a maid if it’s that bad,” Charlotte retorts sharply.
For a whole month, Emily relies on taxis, sometimes with her husband. Finally, her car returns from the garage, and she sets off with relief.
Then—another surprise. Charlotte and her son are already waiting by the curb.
“Oh, finally!” Charlotte climbs in without a word of thanks. “Can you wait for me this evening? There’s a parents’ meeting at school.”
“Sorry, but I’ve got my own plans. Today’s the last lift. From tomorrow, we’re back to fending for ourselves,” Emily says firmly.
“Oh, so the Good Samaritan act is over? Showing your true colours now?” Charlotte hisses.
“Think what you like. But I’m done being your taxi service.”
The rest of the ride is silent. At the school, Charlotte slams the car door without a backward glance. Soon, rumours spread like wildfire: “Emily’s a snob,” “She looked down on a struggling single mum,” “Thinks she’s better than everyone.”
Emily doesn’t defend herself. There’s no point. She’d genuinely wanted to help—offered sympathy, shared lifts, even little gifts. And yet, in the end, she’s the one made out to be the villain. She never gives anyone a lift again. The whole ordeal leaves a bitter taste—one she won’t forget.
