EVERYBODY needs good neighbours, and I like mine. Do you? Like your neighbours, I mean, not mine. Unless you know mine, in which case I hope you agree with my assessment of their likeability.

Let me enlighten you. For starters, there’s Liz, who is a seriously good baker. Any cakes that are left over from her church and ladies’ clubs find their way miraculously into our kitchen, often creeping in quietly while I’m slaving over a hot keyboard. Liz gets a gold star for being a fabulous neighbour.

Then there’s Sue, a chemistry teacher who has offered to give Daughter some (desperately needed) help with her forthcoming GCSE. Sue is also likely to be the first person to spot our rabbits on the mercifully rare occasions they escape, and is quick to send us a 6am text advising us of the onerous task that awaits when we wake.

For a decade, Daughter was the youngest member of our little community. Then Josh and Laura moved in with their toddler, and had their second baby a month ago. Seeing new life growing here gladdens the heart of even the oldest and grumpiest of souls (lest anyone take offence, that’s me).

All have dipped into their pockets to support Daughter in her fundraising efforts for a major school trip to Tanzania next year – one of those that involves a month of building schools and digging latrines, and costs an arm and a leg for the privilege. So yes, I really do love my neighbours.

Ours is a quiet cul-de-sac with a friendly feel. The Other Half grew up next door (in Sue’s house, funnily enough), so knew some of the longer-standing residents when we moved in. Milestone events like the Coronation and VE Day have been celebrated on Liz’s patio with some fabulous baked goods.

It’s also very private, meaning that even if I had a predilection for curtain-twitching, I wouldn’t see much beyond our own garden hedge. That's why I am not one of the 4.5 million Brits who, according to new research by curtain and blinds specialists Hillarys, despise their neighbours so much they are driven to snooping.

The company polled 2,000 UK adults to find out who is most likely to spy on their neighbours, and the top reasons for doing so. Ten per cent of respondents admitted to not trusting their neighbours, while eight per cent of nosy Brits openly fessed up to simply not liking them.

Around 2.7 million engage in an unofficial neighbourhood watch every single day, with 4.3 million owning up to at least once a week, possibly two or three times.

Other reasons (mostly unhealthy) included concerns over missing parcels, gossip gathering and curiosity about their neighbours’ shopping habits. Around five million either suspect an affair or have a secret crush (eww). Clearly some people don’t have enough to do with their time.

One in 14 confessed to spying on neighbours they were feuding with (the North East polled top for neighbourly arguments). Contrary to stereotypes, men were more likely than women to snoop, and 25- to 34-year-olds were outed as the top-tier grudge holders.

The closest city involved in the survey was Plymouth, which at 43 per cent had the highest percentage of using the excuse ‘just being nosy’. At least they are honest.

It goes without saying that none of us are saints. Times change, people move on and dynamics alter. I still bristle at the memory of a recent house sale, which caused some rancour when the seller suggested it took longer and raised less cash because our place looked “scruffy”. Personally, I prefer the description “like someone lives in it”.

Granted, the hedges were due a trim, while the paintwork was flaking in places only visible from their garden, and allegedly the wrong shade of red (chosen by the previous and original residents, who lived there for over 40 years - time enough to get used to it, you’d think). But if you want your neighbours to do anything for you, it’s generally best to ask nicely and avoid insults (cake goes down well too).

We've since cut the hedges back, at our own expense and convenience, and had the house repainted the exact same pillar-box hue – because we like it, and it’s our house. The words “pipe’ and “smoke it” are among the printable ones that spring to mind.

But it’s a salutary tale that, while you might be moaning about your neighbours, they might well be griping about you. We’re all human, after all. Garden habits, anti-social behaviour, rubbish, excess noise, parking, bonfires, straying pets – all feature strongly in any top ten of annoying neighbours. I’m certainly guilty of the latter.

So hand me that pipe – I might need to smoke it myself.