Read Diamonds by Brian Ritchie Page 5


  Chapter 3: Tuesday 10th March.

  “It all started out a fairly normal, boring spring day.”

  Emily listened intently, staring at the darkening city from the window, whilst drumming a yellow-coloured pencil against her lips, occasionally using it to scribble notes, into her notepad.

  After a very boring morning I, as usual, made my way to buy something for lunch.

  Picking up a sandwich and a soft drink I usually made my way towards Princes Street, where I often could be found around midday, watching the world go by while I recharged my batteries in anticipation for an equally boring afternoon.

  Today, however, I noticed a small postcard in the window as I queued to pay for lunch.

  ROOM TO LET

  VERY REASONABLE RATES

  5 MINUTES FROM CITY CENTRE

  ‘This looks interesting’ I thought ‘This could solve a lot of problems’. Noting the contact number onto a piece of paper I crossed the busy street to spend a quiet hour on a park-bench in the midst of the chaos of Edinburgh City Centre.

  I can usually be found spending my lunch hour in this small park off Princes Street, beneath Edinburgh Castle, near the large warehouse where I worked and often took the opportunity to switch my mind into ‘neutral’ after a hectic morning in readiness for an equally gruelling afternoon.

  However, today my thoughts were on other things as the rest of the world rushed by.

  I had worked as Finance Controller of ‘Hunter’s Drapery Warehouse’ in Edinburgh for the past 6 months and figured it was costing me a lot of unnecessary time and petrol to commute each day from Glasgow. ‘It was time for me to leave my parent’s home after 28 years and become more independent.’ I thought.

  My job here looked pretty secure and as there were no family ties in Glasgow I felt nothing would be lost in, at least, enquiring about the room.

  My mind was made up deciding to call the number when I returned to my office.

  There was nothing about this postcard suggesting anything other than a few like-minded people sharing the expense of running a small home near the City Centre.

  I decided the experience of living within the ‘festival city’ would stand me in good stead later in life as I had seen very little of Edinburgh nightlife and the sights and sounds of Glasgow had long since become very predictable.

  All afternoon I weighed up the advantages of living in both cities and reckoned a move to the capital was becoming a very intriguing prospect.

  Having dialled the number, it was apprehensively answered by a young female. I immediately detected a distinct African accent.

  “I am calling about the room for let, is it still available?” I enquired.

  In broken English came a very apprehensive reply “yes, it available – you have to speak to Marcie about the room. Could you give your details and someone will call to arrange a view of the room?”

  A little while later I received a call from the African, who asked if I could view the room tonight, so, at 8 p.m. I found myself in the doorway of a large Victorian tenement house in the city suburbs and after pressing the doorbell I turned around to survey the quiet street before me.

  Although the tenement had stairs ascending to a central stairwell, the ground floor flats at either end of the red-sandstone building have separate main doors from the upstairs apartments.

  “Seems like a very nice area.” I heard myself say, until I heard the door click behind me and turning around, saw a young woman in her early 20’s in the doorway.

  “Hi.” She smiled politely, breaking the silence.

  “Hi, I’m Brian,” I stammered, putting my mind back into gear.

  “I called earlier about the room.”

  From my call I had expected to find the household to be of African origin, but even from the one word she had uttered, I could instantly tell this girl was distinctly, Scottish.

  She stood around 5 foot 5 inches with wavy, long blonde hair down to her bust, held in a ponytail with gold-coloured plastic clasps behind each ear.

  A few strands of blonde hair had strayed to the front and blended with her pale yellow blouse.

  I stood mesmerised for a moment surveying her bare neck, which had a small silver crucifix supported by a thin silver chain.

  Her blouse, which highlighted her bosom, was gathered at the waist by a black skirt, which just covered her knees, and shiny little black court shoes containing white stockinged feet.

  “Oh, yes,” she smiled, opening the door fully, “Please come in.”

  Once inside the girl disappeared behind me for a moment to close the door and I found myself in a dimly lit, uncarpeted large hallway with a framed print of a rather uninteresting bowl of fruit on the wall to my right and around four doors spaced unevenly along each wall.

  I followed the girl to one of the doors directly ahead of us, amid the sound of both sets of feet, which were amplified when echoed by the bare walls on either side of us. She opened a door calling out “Marcie!” as she ushered me inside.

  This was a fairly large room, nicely decorated, with two sofas and two armchairs at the centre pointed towards a large coal-effect gas fire giving a warm glow to the room, and a large colour television in the far corner. The only other pieces of furniture in, what I figured was the main sitting room, was a wooden table, with six chairs around, and what looked like a sewing cabinet which wasn’t being used at the moment.

  The two other people in the room both immediately turned to look at me. One got up from one of the armchairs coming towards me with her right arm outstretched announcing “Hi, I’m Marcie.”

  Leading me to the table I took a seat.

  I noticed the table had six placemats upon it, two along each side and one at either end. A silver wire thing at the centre contained several pieces of cutlery and a jug of water with some small glasses next to some women’s magazines.

  “Quite frankly” she began, once she had seated herself at the far end of the table opposite me, “we are looking for a female to share.

  As you are the only person to answer the ad in the past few weeks I thought it would do no harm to see you first.”

  I mumbled a few words about the postcard not specifying ‘females only’, or I would not have enquired about it.

  “As you have taken the time to come I’ll tell you a few things about the set-up we have here.” She continued.

  Marcie looked to be in her late 40s or early 50s, with shoulder-length fair hair, which had recently been layered. She wore a sweatshirt several sizes too large for her, which did nothing to hide her massive bust, which swayed freely beneath.

  Marcie obviously took great pride in her appearance as she had well-groomed fingernails, the whitest teeth, and a pair of light blue eyes, which reflected the light from the television.

  “This house has six bedrooms,” she continued, “five of which are presently occupied by young ladies, which is why we were looking for another female to share.” She stated frankly.

  “You look like a decent enough guy, so, it would all depend on what the others have to say on the subject of a fellow moving in – if anyone raises any objections then I’m afraid it would be ‘end of story’ – I hope you understand?”

  I could tell she was trying hard not to cause me any offence or discrimination against me as I raised my palms from the table in confirmation of my understanding.

  I decided to say as little as possible at this stage.

  “Okay,” she continued, “The other tenants are myself.” She slapped herself on her chest with a thud,

  “Debbie,” her arm pointed towards the girl who had shown me in, who had seated herself in one of the armchairs.

  At the mention of her name she looked over, smiled, and gave a little wave.

  “Lynda,” an arm with plastic bangles arose from one of the sofas and shook, making the plastic rattle, and then disappeared from sight again.

  “Aleesha and Rachel who aren’t home at the moment.”

&nb
sp; “We try to live here as one big happy family,” Marcie continued, “and we try to live in harmony with each other – which can be a little bit trying at times. We try to help each other out as much as possible, but, at the same time try to keep out of each other’s way as much as we can.”

  “What can you tell me about you?” she enquired.

  “My name is Brian; I’m 28, and work in the accounts department at Hunter’s warehouse in the City Centre.”

  I had, over the years, been for several job interviews and had memorised a short speech, supposed to impress any future employer with my various talents, but this was a whole new ball game. I had never tried to sell myself as a person to impress five women before, and I certainly did not want to blow any chance of sharing a flat with these young ladies, so, I decided to proceed cautiously.

  “I’ve recently been transferred to the Edinburgh office and figured the travelling between Glasgow and Edinburgh is costing a small fortune each week,” I continued.

  “I reckon I am quite an easy guy to get on with as I tend to keep myself very much to myself and having three sisters, it shouldn’t cause any problems as far as your girls are concerned.”

  I figured at this point I shouldn’t say too much as I was bound to say the wrong thing and I reckoned I was probably onto a loser anyway. Surely, one of these girls would object to a male invading their female domain and I would probably have to chalk this one up to experience.

  “Okay,” Marcie smiled, “I’ll show you the vacant room.”

  We rose from the table and I was led towards the door glancing at the two other occupants, who were watching my every move, until I closed the door behind me.

  Walking slightly behind Marcie along the uncarpeted hallway again she pointed to each door as she passed it.

  “That’s my room, Aleesha’s room, Lynda’s room, Debbie’s room, bathroom, Cupboard, Rachel’s room, another cupboard, front door and ‘voila’…”

  Just to the right of the front door Marcie opened the last door. At that same moment a telephone, perched upon a small triangular table in an alcove began to ring causing her to reverse, crushing me slightly against the door pillar.

  I mumbled some apologies as Marcie picked up the receiver and called “Hello…just a second.” Into it and then yelled “LYNDA.” Before placing the receiver onto the table.

  “It’s not much, but it’s quite adequate.” Marcie stated as she squeezed past me again into the room.

  Whilst I viewed my surroundings I could hear Lynda begin a conversation with her caller, so, I gently closed the door behind me and found myself in a nicely decorated room measuring about 15 feet by 8 feet.

  Behind the door was a single bed, without sheets, which had obviously had a number of previous occupants, but still looked fairly comfortable.

  At the foot of the bed was a five-drawer wooden chest-of-drawers with very little of the original varnish remaining.

  At the other side of a small lace-curtained window with heavy purple curtains, stood a wardrobe about six feet high, a Formica dressing table with a mirror upon it and a small Formica four-drawer unit next to it. ‘In all,’ I thought, ‘this is no smaller than the room I have at home and should do nicely’.

  The wallpaper had a light pink flowery pattern to it, which matched the soft off-pink carpet beneath my feet, highlighted by a small light in the centre of the ceiling, which didn’t have any shade.

  “What do you think?” Marcie enquired,” Will it do?”

  I thought it was a very nice room and told her so, as enthusiastically as I could.

  “This is the smallest room in the house and does have its disadvantages I’m afraid.

  Being next to the front door and the telephone you would be the first to hear any callers, but we try to discourage any visitors and calls after 10 p.m. so it’s not all that bad. Any Questions?”

  “Just one,” I answered interestedly, “Your advert didn’t mention what was covered in the weekly rent – what’s covered and what isn’t?”

  “Most things are included,” her reply, “rent, rates, electricity, gas, water, etc.

  Aleesha, a student at the university, doesn’t have as much income as some others, so she does the bulk of the cooking and cleaning of the general rooms, and prepares all our meals.

  If there is anything you won’t eat – like Rachel who is Jewish – tell Aleesha.

  The meals are fairly basic, but there is a decent amount of variety as she can usually turn her hand to anything, so it is quite a good arrangement.”

  The ‘arrangements’ sounded ‘out of this world’ to me.

  Sharing a flat with five females with cooked meals and independence – and the possibility of romance thrown in for good measure, what more could any man ask? It sounded too much like heaven.

  We vacated the room stopping at the front door where Lynda was still on the phone telling the other party that a ‘guy’ was thinking of moving in and how she liked the idea of having a ‘man-about-the-house’ for a change.

  “So” Marcie beamed, “at the moment it sounds like two people in favour and three undecided, so, it’s not looking all bad.”

  The welcoming smile I had seen earlier returned raising my hopes tremendously. “Here’s hoping,” I smiled as I opened the door, thanking her for her time as I left.

  Driving home to Glasgow I couldn’t help thinking about this opportunity presenting itself and smiled most of the way as it all sounded far too unbelievable.

  I was looking forward to the prospect of sharing a house with five females, and the cost of the rent would be affordable as I could save around £50 per week in petrol.

  I was looking forward to the prospects immensely.

  I decided not to tell anyone about my impending departure and retired for the night to dream of this new step in my life.

  “I just knew,” I told Emily, “this was probably the first of many abortive opportunities, and it seemed far too good to be true.”

  “I would probably have to get used to several more ‘viewings’ before I managed to get somewhere as good as this, but the prospect of this vacancy really excited me.”

  Emily nodded her agreement.

  “I hadn’t tried too hard to secure the flat as I figured, surely, one of the girls would object to me invading their female domain.

  A much tougher test, however, was yet to come.”