For the two years I have lived nearby, the house has always had, “please allow for a short while for someone to answer the door” stuck to the front door, stapled neatly on an untarnished piece of white card.

A year had past since I first started walking past number 48, and my curiosity finally got the hold of me. I saw an elderly couple, what looked like purposely, crossing the road just before reaching the house and then re-crossed after passing number 48. I saw them enter the nearby store and decided to follow them inside.
During their shopping they made no mention of the house, so I decided to ask the Rachel behind the counter (I buy my Cigarettes there).
“Morning”

“Oh, hey, I was curious if you know the people who live at number 48 nearby, I saw some kids throw some junk into their front garden last night and was wondering if they realized”

“Sorry, what house?”