“Yes her. You know that I now have every single flat, house and room rented out bar one.”
Sarah squirmed. “Yeah, well. She wasn't right.”
“Why?”
“Cause she wouldn't have fit in. We didn't feel comfortable.”
Her father and landlord sighed. “You can't keep rejecting everyone. That's the fifth one. And you know in the contract you only have a veto for the first two months. It's been since Mary left in August. You can't keep the room open for her until she returns.”
“Yeah I know, Dad. But she wasn't right. She just was creepy. And all churchy.”
“Yes, and you would do well to visit the church a bit more often, young lady. There is nothing wrong with being a god-fearing member of Society. If you want to live with two other people then live in a three-bedroom house not a four.”
Sarah sighed. “We like our house, it's the right size, the garden isn't overlooked. It's just that you haven't found someone appropriate.”
He raised his hand over his receding hairline and shook his head. “Well any other house I'd be putting people in it. I run thirty properties and it's only your bloody house that I have trouble with.”
Sarah licked her lips and batted her eyelids. “Yeah, I know Dad. But it's three girls on their own. We're vulnerable and we want to feel OK in our own home.”
There was a loud swear word uttered as Liam's hand slipped and he poked the pen into his palm. A trickle of blood ran down his hand and he looked at Sarah. “Did you really need to use all this bloody tape?”
Sarah ignored him and turned back to her father who shook his head. “That's why I am being lenient with ya and because it's my property, but I need to get someone in. You can't look for another Mary. Now I 'aven't been forcing anyone onto you but if you don't like the people I have found then you need to be looking for yourself. I need that room filled to get one-hundred percent occupancy.”
Sarah sighed. Her mother passed her a cup of tea and she looked at her son, passing him a pair of scissors as he swore at the small package. “Did you say Tabitha was out of hospital?”
Sarah smiled. “Yeah, yesterday. Doctors reckon she'll be fine, and she's off work for another week. But she is due to go onto maternity soon.”
“And that's another thing. How did that happen?” Her father demanded.
Sarah cocked her head to one side. “Would you like me to draw you a diagram?” Sarah pulled out her hands, inserting her middle finger into a hole made by her thumb and forefinger in her other hand and looking at her father with a silly grin.
There was muted laughter as her father shook his head at the giggling daughter. “You know what I mean. Your house is immoral. Mary arrested last year for indecency. Natasha ...”
“Natalie,” Sarah interrupted. “You keep calling her Natasha, it's Natalie.”
“Well her, and tell her she owes me for November.” Sarah grunted and fished in her handbag, passing a cheque over to her father.
“She said sorry, work were late paying her.”
He grunted and looked at her. “As I was saying, Mary getting cautioned, Natalie going naked in those art classes. Not to mention Tabitha, single girl gets knocked up on a one-night stand. You said she was single and not interested in setting down with a guy.”
“She's not,” Sarah said tersely. “But that night she wanted it. She is an adult now, she had her 21st Birthday a few months ago. Her choice. But, because she is pregnant, she is very vulnerable which is why we don't want anyone moving in. They have to be sound”
“It's her culture,” her father replied sharply. “Programmed to have kids every fifteen minutes. I'm not havin' a rented house full of kids.”
Sarah uncrossed her arms and gestured towards her father. “What are you on about? She was born in Wolverhampton. There might be bugger all to do there but having kids is not a cultural thing.”
“She's … ya know,” her father squirmed.
“Black,” Sarah finished for him with a fierce scowl.
“And it'll be the state that pays for it. She'll claim no end of benefits, you'll see,” he ranted.
“...and breathe,” Sarah said with a frown. “See you have been reading the Daily Mail again.” She turned to her mother. “I thought the Doctor told him to avoid it along with coffee and alcohol 'cause of his blood pressure. It'll do him no good.” Her father went to reply when Sarah interrupted him. “Remember, it's the paper that supported Hitler.”
“You keep saying that,” he moaned. “And it's better that that left-wing rubbish you read,” he told her and Sarah sighed.
“The Independent. Yeah, really left-wing. You should see our staff room at work, full of Trots all pouring over the Indy,” she said with a scowl. “We sing the Communist Worker's Song before we start work in the morning, bow down towards Russia. And we got a grant from our Labour Council to do it and fly the Red Flag.”
The middle-aged man shook his head and went to reply when there was a cry from the corner of the sofa. “Ah-ha,” Liam called out and he prised open the small gift his sister had bought him. “A digital camera,” he said loudly and put his arms out to hug his sister. “Ahh wow!”
“Get away from me,” Sarah cried. “You'll get blood on my T-Shirt.”
“Sorry.”
Sarah sipped at her tea and her mother touched her on the knee. “How was Parents' Evening, love.”
“Ahh fine. One parent thought I was pushing their son too hard by insisting that he can read and write at the age of nine. And another thought I was holding them back by not teaching them Quantum Mechanics, but apart from that, OK.”
Her mother smiled. “I told you, you'd be OK.”
“It's very different doing it on your own. Scared me a bit, but the early parents were fine. All the kids said that they liked Miss Dayton apparently apart from Luke who thinks I am scary.”
“You are scary,” Liam teased as he poured over the hand-held device and Sarah finished her tea. “I would hate to be taught by you.”
“I don't mind teaching you dress sense,” Sarah replied instantly. “God, there were geeks at Uni who wouldn't be seen dead in that.”
Liam sighed. “I like it. Olivia bought it for me.”
“Well she is just making sure that no other girl wants you,” Sarah spluttered and looked across at her mother. “Now are we going to get Birthday Fish 'n' Chips or what?”
“Yeah, sure,” her father replied and reached up for his wallet on the fireplace next to his chair. He stretched and heard a ringing sound. “Oh, it's my 'phone, one moment,” he muttered and located the device. “George Dayton,” he abruptly answered the ringing mobile 'phone. “On fire. OK I'll be with you shortly.”
* * * * *
“Hiya,” Sarah called out the moment she closed the front door to their terraced house. “How's the patient?”
“I'm fine,” a pregnant girl muttered from the sofa. “Liam like his camera?”
“Oh yeah,” Sarah replied airily as Sarah sauntered into the lounge. “One of Dad's houses is on fire, so we had Fish 'n' Chips and … er … that was it really. Dad wants us to take anyone but I told him, no.”
The pregnant girl looked up in surprise as Sarah closed the door. Their front room was lit only be a couple of wall lights, the flickering of the fire and a slight crack in the curtains. The threadbare two-people couch underneath the window was occupied by Tabitha who sat up as Sarah came into the room and flicked off the television. “Just crap on,” she muttered.
Sarah looked at the pregnant girl. At five foot ten inches tall, she was a couple of inches taller than her but Tabitha was much bigger, even after considering the pregnancy bump. Sarah was slight and thin whereas Tabitha was well built and almost stocky.
Sarah envied her house mate, and although her own breasts were not small, Tabitha's large bosom had grown immensely during her pregnancy to now be a 38F. Tabitha patted the chair next to her. “What happens if your Dad does decide to put someone in here?”
&n
bsp; Sarah took a deep breath. “Oh I don't know. It would be good if we could find someone. Failing that, we will just have to muddle through.” Sarah kicked off her shoes and socks and looked up at the pregnant girl on the couch as she slid her jeans and panties down to her ankles. “Mean, they will get a proper shock if he picks anyone, won't they?”
The naked Tabitha smirked. “Yeah. That girl he sent 'round a couple of days ago. She was awful. Could tell she wouldn't want to live with naturists.”
Sarah smiled as she removed her top and sat down next to Tabitha. “Before I get comfortable, do you need a drink?” Tabitha pointed at a full glass of water on the table and Sarah smiled. “Good, listening to the Doctor. Yeah, Dad asked me about her. But she wouldn't have coped with us, let alone Nat.”
“Well she is as much exhibitionist as she is naturist. She would have loved to make her feel uncomfortable if she started preaching. You know that.”
“Dad mentioned that. Nat's art modelling and stuff, says our house is immoral.”
Tabitha smiled. “It is immoral.”
Sarah giggled and allowed Tabitha to get herself comfortable by leaning back and putting her legs across hers. She glanced down at her stubble gracing her pubis and Tabitha looked pleadingly at the young teacher. “You couldn't tomorrow, you know.”
Sarah smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I think I can,” she said with a grin.
“Yeah, 'cause it's a service the nurses don't offer,” Tabitha complained. “And I do like it nice and smooth.”
“Sure,” Sarah said and then looked at the television. “Anyway, where is this film you promised me?”
Tabitha picked up the two remote controls and turned the television back on, before flicking the DVD player into life.
“Saturday nights are just awesome,” she announced and ran her hands along the legs and thigh of the black girl as the DVD span up.
“I've put something saucy in. That OK?” Tabitha offered and Sarah nodded knowing exactly what Tabitha meant.
Chapter II
George Dayton pulled up at the house in Elm Park Road in his executive salon. He spotted the frustrated figure of Adam, sat on the garden wall and smoothed his jacket as he got out of the car.
“Hiya,” Adam called out to him and George nodded. There were a few people milling around but his property was in darkness and silent.
“What's happened?”
Adam sighed. “They reckon the guys next door put a chip pan on and didn't turn it off and then they went out,” Adam said calmly to groans from his landlord. “And their kitchen caught fire, which is in the corner and it just took hold and it's gutted the back of mine. Well yours.”
George shook his head in disgust and reached into his jacket pocket taking out a torch. “Can we get in?”
“Fire Brigade said not to until the Building Inspector comes but feck knows when that'll be.”
“Well we can get 'round the back can't we?”
Adam nodded. “Yeah but I ain't been to see it.”
The landlord flicked on his torch and looked walked over to the gate by the side of the semi-detached house, pushing it open and walking through it. The smell of charred wood and smoke hung in the air and George swore when he saw the back of the property. “Hell, this is a lot of work here.”
“Yeah I guessed that,” Adam replied as he caught up. The entire of the house in the bottom right was charred black and three of the windows had melted. It was clear that the fire had burnt most of the downstairs plus the smoke damage and George sighed.
“Only just finished doing this up after those bastards wrecked it,” he muttered and Adam pursed his lips. “Did you have anything moved in?”
“No,” Adam muttered. “Thank fuck. Was moving in tomorrow.” George hummed and swung the torch from one part of the house to the other and rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Look, can I stay in the flat for the time being? I know I signed on to take this on yesterday but I can't move in here, with it in this state.”
The landlord sighed. “No. No you can't, not like this. There's weeks of work here. You'd be within your rights to cancel the agreement.” He looked at the young man staring at the property
Adam bit his lip and hummed. “So me flat. That been taken?”
George screwed up his face. “Sorry. The couple I showed 'round this morning took it. I signed the agreement a few hours ago.” He rubbed his brow and looked at the property again scarcely illuminated by the feint light of the torch.
“Ahh shit,” Adam cried out. “Cause I got to get out of there by Thursday and got nowhere to go. I ain't movin' back in with my parents. Ya dain't got anywhere free?”
George sighed. “Yeah, umm, OK. Look it's only a room in a house share on the other side of Lancaster but it's all I got. It's normally seventy quid a week but I can let you have it at half price if you still want to move into the house when it's done up,” he told him. “Plus bills that you sort out, I don't get involved in that.”
“A room? I got loads of stuff in my flat,” Adam told him morosely.
“Sorry,” the landlord muttered. “I got 100% occupancy bar this room. It's a house full of girls ...” George paused and waited for the objection and shook his head. “Yeah sorry, I know. But it's a house full of girls, they're OK.”
“Yeah, if that's all what's available,” Adam muttered. “I'll chuck some stuff, well most of me stuff, in storage.”
“He surveyed the house again and shrugged. “Yeah sorry, I'm just waiting for some house sales to go through but they are occupied. I think the next free property is after Christmas. Loads in June obviously when the students go home.”
Adam bit his lip and nodded. “Ahh well, it'll beat going back with my parents.”
“Yeah,” George muttered, distracted for a moment. “How are they?”
“Yeah, they're fine. Dad's working too hard and Ivy, well she is shacked up with a right lazy bastard.”
George snorted and scribbled a number on a piece of paper. “This is the house phone number, if you want to have a butchers or to meet the girls. They are a nice bunch but just a bit crazy.” Adam gave a nervous laugh and the landlord smiled. “They're OK. Bloody awkward but I'll draw up the paperwork tomorrow. Come to the office at ten and I'll give you keys.”
Adam nodded and shook his hand. “Cheers. Owe you one.”
* * * * *
“Ahh, there you are. I have a little surprise for you,” the landlord called as he came back up the driveway from getting his Sunday papers from the newsagent and saw his daughter getting out of her car outside his house.
“What?” Sarah asked, stooping to pick up the bottle of wine from the front seat. “What's up?”
“I have someone who will be staying in the spare bedroom,” he told her with a smile. “One of my tenants.”
Sarah shook her head and stared at him wide-eyed. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no! Dad you promised. Who?” She barked.
“Adam,” came the response with a terse look.
“Adam. A guy called Adam?”
“Well Adam is a boys name,” he told her with a smirk. “Now I know ...”
“Why would you do this?” Sarah shouted in the street, her arms gesturing wildly. Her father unlocked his front door and scowled at her. “Why would you put a guy in with us? We had this conversation yesterday.”
“I do not want to continue this conversation outside,” he warned her. “I will not discuss my business with the street.” Sarah threw her hands down to her sides and strode into the house.
“Who is he and why?” She shouted as she crossed the threshold.
“He was due to move into a house, it burnt down yesterday so I said he could rent the room off me.”
“Well can't he live somewhere else?” Sarah asked, her voice sharp and snappy.
“No,” her father replied instantly. “I have near 100% occupancy. I told you that. Anyway you know him, he's a nice lad.”
“I don't know anyone called Adam,” Sarah sneered and crossed her
arms glaring at her father.
“Yes you do know him. Remember that twentieth wedding anniversary we went to few years ago. You were in College I think. Or School. Stuart and Louise, the garage owner. You know, my old school friend. He is their son.”
Sarah screwed up her face. “At that posh pub near the hospital?”
“Yeah, that's the one. He's a nice guy.”
“He threw up in the flower beds and made a pass at every girl there, didn't he?” The landlord shrugged.
“I can't remember.”
“Black hair, tall, wore a green shirt. He was with a podgy girl and they got absolutely hammered. ”
The landlord sighed and pursed his lips. “Well he might've done, I don't know.”
“So, let's be honest, you know nothing about him. He might not be a nice guy, he might be a killer or a rapist or anything.”
“Don't be silly, Sarah. You are acting like one of your pupils. He's a nice lad, always pays his rent on time,” he told her. “Unlike your friends.” Sarah winced and the landlord shook his head and walked into the front room.
“Yeah, 'cause rapists never pay their debts do they?” Sarah spat back, continuing the argument. “If only all those murderers like Ian Huntley and Moira Hindley. If only they'd have paid their rent on time, they'd have not have committed any sex crimes.” Her father's expression changed at Sarah's sarcasm. “And I don't want anyone I don't know moving in to the room above me.”
“Well that's the problem,” her father told her. “Someone you don't know. Everyone is someone you don't know. Now I do know Adam and I know his family. He is a good lad, he won't cause any trouble. And I knew you wouldn't like it, but I gave you ample opportunity to find someone you wanted and you didn't. So I have found someone suitable for you.”
Sarah rubbed her face and held out her hands at her father. “He is not suitable. He is a he, for a start. If he was a she we might be talking but being a he is bad. Very bad.”
“Yeah, and if you are as vulnerable as you say you are then having a guy in the house is better than all you girls. What happens if you get a break-in?”
“I can look after myself,” Sarah hissed. “I looked after myself when I was at Uni and I can do so again. I certainly don't need some guy to be around.”
“Well it is my last word on the subject,” her father told her for the second time. “He has a six month contract starting from Wednesday.”