Not Not While the Giro

The house of an old woman

The hedge was tall but so scrawny we could easily see through it. A huge place. Standing in a jungle of weeds and strange looking sunflowers, big ones which bent at the top and hung backwards to the long grass. It seemed deserted. I hesitated a moment before pushing open the rusty gate. It grated on the cement slab underneath. Freddie and Bob followed me along the narrow path and we stopped at the foot of the flight of steps. I went up and banged the door. And again. Eventually the door opened still on the chain. An old woman gaped out at me. I explained.

Ten pounds a week pay your own lectric! she roared.

I looked at her. She glared at me: Right then, eight and not a penny less! Well? Do you want it or not!

Freddie spoke up from below, asking if we could see it first. But she glared at me again as if I had said it. I shrugged. She pointed at my suitcase and squinted: What did you bring that for if you didnt want to take it? She pursed her lips and added: Right then, but just for a minute because my daughter’s coming to get me! She told me they were wanting to take the place — nothing about wanting to see it! Who did the telephone?

Me.

Huh! The door shut and shuffling could be heard, and what sounded like a whole assortment of chains being unhooked. Then the door opened fully and she beckoned me in. She about turned and, with her skirts held in either hand, she walked with a stoop halfway along the enormous and empty lobby. Opening another door she indicated we were to follow her. It was the lounge. The wallpaper reminded me of the fence surrounding the patchwork hedge outside. Above the big mantelpiece a picture had been recently taken down leaving a space which displayed the original design and colours of the wallpaper. An immaculate television set squatted on an orange carpet but apart from that the room was empty. Pointing to both the carpet and television she said: Somebody might come to collect these but you can use them meantime. The bathroom’s on the first floor and the big one and the smaller one and above that there’s three other rooms all sizes you can make bedrooms out of and in the attic it’s a great big room and down here you’ve got the kitchen next door and the other room and you cant go into it. There’s the W.C. next to that then the back door leading out to the garden and you should start doing it up. There’s fruit out there! She breathed deeply for a bit then cried: Ten pounds plus lectric. And you’ll have to pay in advance you know because my daughter’ll see that you do.

Turning abruptly she walked to the door but bounced roundabout as though expecting to catch us sticking our tongues out. Freddie muttered something to do with it being good value for the money.

Course it’s good value! And just you remember about that garden! She said it all directly to me. Once we had wandered about the place we came back downstairs to find her waiting impatiently in the lobby. She wore a fox round the neck of her black coat and a charcoal hat with a large brooch stuck in its crown. Her trousers were amazing though they were probably pantaloons; they had elastic cords fastened at each cuff which were looped round her sturdy walking shoes, to prevent them riding up her legs maybe. These pantaloons were light brown in colour.

Has your daughter not arrived yet? I said. But although I had spoken politely she ignored me. We stood there waiting for her to say something. She acted as if we were not there. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Freddie was first to move. He entered the lounge, and Bob followed. I felt obliged to make some sort of gesture. Eventually I said, Fine — that’s fine.

I moved to the door of the lounge and through, and then the door closed firmly behind me. For some reason I let my arm swing backwards as if I had closed it myself.

We sat on the carpet and discussed the situation, but quietly, aware of her standing sentry out in the lobby. Later on the outside door opened, then the lounge door. The daughter appeared, a tall woman who dressed plainly and reminded me of a matron. They left after we paid the advance rent money. Freddie cracked a joke and we laughed. I shuffled the cards and dealt three hands of poker to see who was to get first choice of rooms. I won. I decided on the big one up on the first floor and the other two settled on adjoining ones on the second. It had been a good day. Never for one moment had I really expected to get the place at a rent we could afford. Great value. As I unrolled my sleeping bag I noticed the linoleum was cracked in places and not too clean either. It occurred to me that we should buy carpets before anything else.

Next evening we met in a pub after finishing work. They mentioned they had spent last night in the downstairs lounge. I laughed, but later on, when we were playing cards and drinking cans of beer back in the house, I felt a bit peeved. It was noticed. I passed it off by making some crack about folk being afraid of the dark etc. They laughed with me but insisted it was great having a carpet beneath the sleeping bags. It kept out the cold. They asked if I fancied coming here as well to sleep but I said no. I couldnt be bothered with that. It somehow defeated the purpose of it all, getting a big house and so on. They wanted to carry on with the discussion but I didnt. After a bit we cut for the first bath. I lost. Bob won and when he had gone Freddie said he couldnt be bothered waiting for one and undressed and just got into the sleeping bag. He began exaggerating how cosy it was and soft compared to a dirty cold hard floor, and also how you could chat with company if you couldnt get to sleep.

Rubbish.

I played patience till Bob came back by which time I think Freddie was sleeping. Upstairs in the bathroom I smoked a cigarette while waiting for the tub to fill. Once the taps were turned off I was very aware of how silent everything was. I wished I had been first to think about sleeping downstairs on the lounge carpet. It was a good plan, at least till we started buying stuff to furnish the place. Yet I couldnt really join them now. It had gone a bit far. And it was daft saying that about being scared of the dark. I had meant it as a joke of course and they had taken it the right way. But why had they not come in and got me last night? They said I had been sleeping when they came downstairs but never even looked inside to check, just said they had listened at the door and said my breathing was so regular I couldnt be awake. And the light was off! As if I could somehow wait till I was asleep before switching it out!

I must admit I didnt fancy the idea of sleeping alone the sole occupant of two floors and an attic in a run-down house owned by an old eccentric. But she was not crazy. She had acted the way she had. But old women are notorious. Old people in general — they do odd things.

The bathwater had cooled. No hot left in the tank. Bob must have used more than his fair share. In fact the bathwater was actually getting quite cold. There was a draught coming in under the door which was causing the sleeves of my jumper to sway where it hung on the back of the tall stool. Then the creak! It was terrible hearing it. My body tensed completely. The big cupboard in the corner it came from, and its door moved ajar slightly, and in the shadows I could make out what appeared to be a big coat. It was. I half raised myself up from the bath but I couldnt see it fully. And there couldnt be anyone inside. Otherwise they would have come out. Getting up from the bath I stepped over the side, gathering my clothes without looking in its direction, making my way to the door out. Before opening it I had to relax myself. I stared at my right hand, getting it to stop trembling. I raised it to grip the door handle but did not touch it. My breaths rasped through my teeth. Then I managed to close my fist on the handle but my shoulders had stiffened and I tried to halt my breathing an instant. I could hear nothing but my breaths. I tugged on the handle then the catch released with a sharp click and throwing the door open I dashed forward, cracking my knee against the jamb. I dropped a shoe but didnt stop. I bolted across the corridor and into my room crashing the door shut behind me.

I had suggested clubbing together to buy the largest secondhand carpets we could find, the cost to be borne individually or divided equally, or whatever else they suggested. But no. Objections raised by both. They preferred earlier ideas about buying furniture for each room as each person thought fit. And anyway, they said, they would need at least another fortnight before starting to think about buying anything. To help save I suggested eating in and watching more television but they hummed and they hawed and I could tell they werent too interested. At this point I resolved to bring down the sleeping bag but I could not openly declare it. I hinted the room was freezing cold, it was too big, draughts came in beneath the door and through the patched-up window joints. Neither bothered to comment. One evening I happened to ask whether they still felt the place was good value. Bob grunted something or other and Freddie gave an ‘of course’ — but in such a way I was made to feel as if I had asked something stupid. Upstairs I went without saying anything further. That same quiet pervading the place. Bob was going for a bath. Now and then the loud crash of the tap being turned on startled me and again startled me when turned off. And these gurgling noises as the water filled the cold-tank.

The sleeping bag was fine, snug enough. Yet if something were to happen my legs would obviously have been restricted. I turned onto my side a lot, a position I could maintain for short periods only because my shoulders ached on the floor, while when lying on my front I would soon become aware of my knees jarring on it. Carpets were definitely essential. A bed would have been even better. And yet I appeared to be the only one interested in buying anything. The draught beneath the door turned an empty cigarette packet halfway about. I was weary. It was not easy to sleep, every bit of me felt exhausted, and the thoughts flying about my brain. And yet things had definitely changed since we had come, there was a coolness being directed against me — in the pub, the bus going to work.

The bathroom door opened and closed then silence for a second before the pitpat downstairs, and later the sound of the lounge door opening and shutting quite firmly. I was honestly glad to be up in my own room, glad not to have succumbed for the sake of a carpet and some sort of safety in numbers. A coat in the cupboard! Felt covering the water tank. What a joke! Laughs all round.

In the cafe one Saturday morning for breakfast I again suggested getting the carpets, maybe starting off buying one at a time and if they liked I would pay it and we could sort out the details later on. They refused. Said it was best I did buy it but just to go ahead and kit out my own room. When we went back to the house the daughter was waiting for us. It surprised me at the time yet it was the end of the month and she obviously had to have a key of her own. When I asked after the old woman she replied, Same as ever.

Is she comfortable? I said. It was daft to ask that but too late to retract. The daughter nodded without speaking and I noticed the other two exchanging grins. If they had been prepared to open their mouths then I wouldnt have had to say a word, but they always left me to sort out the business stuff. It was me who got this place. If I hadnt have made the phone call they would never have bothered. After she left with the rent money I told them I would be happy to stay in and watch the sport on television. Immediately Freddie jumped to his feet saying he fancied a pint and then Bob was on his feet saying, A good idea. Off they went, right away. That was definitely that. Something up, no doubt about it. Neither had even given me the opportunity of refusing. Yet I might not have refused. How could they know without even asking? It was as if they were waiting for me to say what I was going to do just so they could go and do something else. They lacked the nerve to come right out with it though. And when they suggested a game of cards later in the day I said no. Bob muttered something about where was I going, was I going out or what? I shrugged. Ten minutes later I went out. To hell with them.

The place was in darkness when I came home. A bit eerie in some ways. I walked along the hallway and flung open the lounge door, but with too much force, and it rocked on its hinges. Of course the room was empty. They had probably gone out as soon as possible after me. I switched on the television and tried to concentrate on it. Past 11 o’clock. The pub was less than ten minutes away. Normally we would have returned by then. Perhaps they had gone to another pub. Yet surely they would have gone there knowing it was where I would have gone? I hadnt gone there of course, but they werent to know that.

I had decided to wait up for them. I changed my mind. Why bother? They could have gone anywhere, they could have gone into the centre of town. Maybe even gone to the dancing somewhere. Why had they not even thought to mention it earlier? They could have said something. And if they hadnt truly known at that time they could at least have mentioned probabilities. If I had known they might be considering the dancing I would have gone out with them. Anywhere at all for that matter as long as it wasnt to the local pubs. Obviously my company was being avoided. And the way my suggestions were never picked up. They said there was no problem about sleeping. Neither there was, for them. Sleeping downstairs on a thick carpet! What’s up? did they lack the guts to sleep in empty rooms!

No point staying up any longer. I switched off the television, the light too. Then in the hallway I couldnt find the switch for the light there. Not that it mattered because of the moonlight coming through the window on the first landing upstairs. Why had the old woman insisted on locking that door downstairs though? It was a question the three of us had discussed on a few occasions. Just as I approached my room I heard noises from outside. It was those two. Then the door had opened. They walked inside, the door closing as if they had only thrown it back instead of actually shutting it properly. They went into the lounge, one of them laughed at something the other must have said.

Yet the following morning was good! Freddie cooked a great breakfast. The first genuine meal we had prepared on the oven. From then on it was agreed we would eat as often as possible in the house and save on the money. I suggested we take turn about with the different things but Bob said since Freddie’s cooking was fine he should stick to that and we could do the other bits if it was okay with everybody? Freddie agreed right away so I cut the cards with Bob. I lost. But fortunately he preferred to dry the dishes rather than wash them. I prefer the washing because it gets it over and done with. So it all worked out fine. The early part of the evening we went to the local but they agreed almost immediately when I suggested going into the town. Back home they preferred watching television to setting up a game of cards. By the time Bob came back from what seemed like his daily bath the credits for the late night movie were just coming on. I was lighting a cigarette and getting ready to settle down for it but then he made a display of unrolling the sleeping bag and generally busying about the place. I ignored it. But Freddie was wanting to know if he was getting ready for a kip? Yes, he said. To be fresh for work in the morning, apparently. I kept staring at the screen. He yawned and got into the sleeping bag. Silence for maybe five minutes then Freddie also yawned, a really big one. I got up and left. It was pointless.

My own sleeping bag was lying as I had left it that morning. In the corner was the pile of socks and stuff I had ready for the launderette. I would go straight from work tomorrow. Also I decided to buy a carpet right away. In fact a bed would be better. Why not? With the money a carpet cost it would probably be just the same to get a secondhand bed. I could even buy both. Without bothering about those two downstairs. Why should I? They could look after themselves. And I was sick of making decisions anyway. They never had a clue about that kind of thing. Even this area of the city was unknown to them. They would have had no chance of getting a place on their own, without me. Why on earth did they go to bed when a good film was starting? But why not. The lounge was perfect for a good genuine sleep with that carpet blocking out the cold hard floor. Bastards. Things would have to change otherwise. What? Otherwise what! It was my place. It was me found the house. It was me had to convince them it was great value, that it wasnt too good to be true — that it was at least worth the price of a phone-call!

I picked an old newspaper from the floor and wedged it beneath the door to secure it and combat the draught. Whenever I forgot this it banged all night — gently right enough, but a bang nevertheless, especially when you are trying to get a decent sleep. And also the bits of fluff and oose, they would go breezing about the linoleum, and occasionally I felt as if it was landing on my face, getting into my hair — that’s the trouble with sleeping on the floor. I laid my shoes on the newspaper to secure it. There was no question that a good carpet was the first necessity.

I was hardly sleeping at all now and my timekeeping was beginning to suffer. Occasionally I worked a little overtime to compensate but this day I returned home to find the old woman’s specially locked door lying ajar. An ancient sort of smell hung everywhere. A kind of storeroom it looked like, furniture stacked against walls, faded photographs in frames. If the daughter discovered what had happened she would be well within her rights to order us out at once. Why had they done it? They never thought. How could the lock be fixed? It had obviously been forced. How could everything be put right so she would never notice? The kind of questions that never seemed to occur to those two. I went upstairs immediately and attempted to concentrate on a book. It was hard going. It seemed like hours until at last the outside door opened. When the lounge door closed I rose quietly and switched off my room light, muffling the click by holding a sock over the switch. I wanted them to think I had been asleep for ages. Back in the sleeping bag I lay awake for a long time, just listening, but not hearing anything unusual. What maybe I should have done earlier was to go right into the lounge and see what was going on. But what would’ve happened if they had found me there? Nothing. It was the lounge. I had as much right to be there as they had. Because they slept in the room didnt mean it wasnt a lounge. But what was going to happen about the old woman’s room? Surely they hadnt searched the place? What would there be to find? It was just a kind of storeroom!

They admitted breaking into the old woman’s room. Purely out of curiosity. They said they had taken nothing whatsoever, and hardly glanced at what was there. And promised to have it fixed by the Saturday in case the daughter arrived. Yet I doubt whether they would have spoken about it unless I had broached the subject. They showed no interest in the door to my room. It had blown open the night before. A gale was blowing outside and this might have been the cause. It seemed unlikely at the time and no more so now. But possible of course, but just unlikely. It was pointless talking about it to them. As I lay soaking in the bathtub the cupboard door squeaked as usual, revealing the felt round the boiler. And what seemed to be a black hat perched on top, on the spot it would have been had the boiler been a body. I slid under the warm water, enjoying the sensation, but then I came up. Surely it was a hat! And coupled with the felt it really did resemble a body. It might have been a wrapped up towel made to look like a hat. It was definitely a hat. I got out the bath and strode across to open the door fully. It was a hat of course, perched on the top by having been balanced against the back pipe. And who had done the balancing? Some joke. Let’s have a big laugh.

I dried. Maybe they were expecting a scream! I rushed down stairs and grasped the handle of their door but paused, just to control my anger. The light was out when I entered. Bob had sat up straight, he showed relief to see it was me. He muttered something, not loudly enough to waken Freddie who seemed to be sleeping. Their sleeping bags lay end to end in front of the fireplace. I wanted to know who put the hat on the boiler? I asked him again. Still he didnt answer. I shook my head. It was pointless. Outside in the hallway I paused again, wondering if I should stay there and find out if Freddie actually was asleep. But what difference did it make?

I stayed clear of them. That business about eating in had never taken on from the start. Humming and hawing about the time it took when you come back from working all day etc. Rubbish. The Saturday morning the daughter was certain to arrive for the rent I went down to wait but she never appeared. I saw Freddie through the open lounge door and he came out and asked if I was going out? Yes. Where? Ha ha ha. When will you be back? I told him I would be back eventually and let it hang as if I was going to be gone for the whole weekend or something. In fact I went up the town and intended going to a movie that evening, though I ended up in quite a good pub which had entertainment on Saturday nights. Once home I strolled along the path and stood at the door for a few moments then I opened it and strode down the hallway whistling, I had let the door shut itself by shoving it. I went straight into the lounge. They were watching television. I took out a can of beer and opened it, then I left. Loud noises woke me next morning.

It was midday by the time I went down. When I walked into the lounge the place was full of furnishings and fittings. A sideboard at one wall, a table near the window, some chairs. They were lying on the carpet reading the Sunday papers. Without saying anything I went out and along to the old woman’s room. It had practically been cleared. What was the point.

They were standing in the doorway behind me. One of them indicated a couple of musty carpets and suggested I take them. The other said what about the big trunk in the corner, was that any good? Ha ha ha. I couldnt believe it. There could be no question that the daughter would notice next time she came. Freddie muttered something about sticking the stuff back in on the Friday night. What happened if she came unexpectedly? Well they could stick the stuff back in every Friday night to be on the safe side. Some idea that! What happens if she decided to look in on another day altogether, just to check up on us? Silence. They both shrugged. What about me? Oh great, two ancient carpets and a big trunk. Exactly what I need for the room!

Rubbish.

But the crux had taken place. This was it. The lounge was now theirs. It belonged to them. It didnt have anything to do with me. The television set and the orange carpet just happened to be in the room they now used as a bedsitter. I had the rest of the house. I could go anywhere I wanted. The only snag was there was nothing in it. Oh well, not much of a snag!

I went up the stairs and got ready to go out. That was it now. All the plans to decorate the place from top to bottom. All finished. And the garden. Getting the stuff growing properly, seeing the fruit would come out right. The whole lot. All finished. Yes, I could stay in an empty room and they would stay in the lounge. And we would all continue with an even three-way split of the rent. Yes. Fine! Exactly fair.

The door opening was becoming more frequent. It usually seemed to occur in the small hours. Then the silence. Because of the situation I was lying there anticipating anything. Anything at all. But I couldnt even hear their footsteps. It was possible they crept up to the attic to wait a while in case I got up to investigate. One morning I managed to get the early bus I told them people who went about pulling stunts in the middle of the night should be locked away in a kids’ nursery. It was Freddie who spoke. He muttered something about my room, a smell. That was good. Freddie. As far as I knew he had never taken a bath since coming to the house! He showered in work, apparently. There was a smell in my room. I knew there was. I hadnt been to the launderette for a while. But I always opened the window for a bit during the early evening if I was home. The real smell belonged to the room itself. In fact the whole house had a smell of its own. Musty. I mentioned it to the daughter on that Saturday morning. Eventually she told me it was a while since it had been aired properly which was fair enough considering the way her mother was. It is doubtful whether she would have done it for years! The daughter picked up the rent envelope and left but I went down the path after her and asked if she had happened to take a look in the lounge recently. She said she was a bit pushed for time. I told her about the furniture. It was unintentional. It just came out. But she just said she was pushed for time again and that was that. I was glad but at the same time not glad. And then I saw she was gazing at the lounge window when she passed on the other side of the big scrawny hedge. Very possibly she would be back to check. And no wonder. Who wants strangers poking about in your mother’s room? I had forgotten to mention the television set into the bargain. As far as I had been aware it was only in the house temporarily. Had the old woman not said both it and the orange carpet were going to be collected? What if she had forgotten about them? It could be she had. Being an old person she might well have remembered them but not known where they were. What would happen if it was a rented set? She might end up having to pay the full price as if she had had it stolen. Those rental firms are notorious. But the daughter would see it there in the lounge and know right away it was the one belonging to her mother. It would be fine.

I had to work part of Sunday because of this sleeping in. The man in charge was continually berating me about it and though he was justified to a large extent it was not as if I wasnt trying. At times it got so bad I would rather have taken the whole day off rather than go in and face it all. But I had to! What would have happened if I hadnt? There wasnt much could’ve happened. I could have been given the sack but I was good at my work. The man in charge obviously knew this. Where would they have got a better worker? Probably they could have — eventually, not right away. I didnt feel like going home when I got off the bus. It had been a long drawn out journey. Sunday bus services. I hardly had any energy left. I went to the chip shop and ate a meal, half expecting to see those two but they were probably off for the day somewhere, at least into the town. I hadnt been to the local pub for some time. It was packed full when I got there and the way I was feeling I had to get a seat. I was obliged to sit at a table where a group of people were. They were regulars. Although I didnt know them well enough to talk to I didnt feel too much of an outsider. Later on I saw them. They were at the bar and looked to have been there for ages judging by the position they had towards the side of it. How could I have failed to spot them before? And how did they not see me? They maybe had and ignored me. It would have been unlikely they could have missed me. Normally when someone enters a pub the first thing is to gaze about for familiar faces. Habit. Everybody does it. If they hadnt been standing to the side I would definitely have seen them earlier. And they probably hadnt even been there when I arrived. What would they do if I ordered a drink at a place where they had to notice me? They could scarcely pretend not to see me — especially with the big mirror on the wall. The pub was busy but so what, they would still have to see me. What would happen? Would they buy me a drink? Ignore me? How could that happen! Impossible. That would be going too far. Even if they wanted to. And of course they would want to. But they couldnt. They werent in a position to. It would be a sort of confrontation. Right out in the open and in a public place. And what could they do? Nothing. Nothing whatsoever! There was nothing they could do except say hello or something, buy me a drink maybe and ask about my job. No chance of them doing anything else. And they could never force me into leaving the place. That was probably the real plan, get me to leave the house altogether. Ha ha ha. And if I hadnt phoned nobody would have. I saw Freddie exchange words with a person next to them at the bar there and they laughed briefly. It would remain to be seen. Things change. Because things are as they are it’s no guarantee they have to stay like that. A very different story if I was to go up and start talking right now. Very different from two to one in the downstairs room. No pretences. Simple comments only. That’d be all. And they would have no option but to answer. What else could they do? They couldnt do anything else. The barman happened along just then and he lifted my empty glass. I sat on for a moment. I could get myself another drink right now. What would happen? I didnt have to order at their side of the bar. If I did I would have to be ready. There was no point rushing in without having the thing prepared otherwise I couldnt keep the advantage. It had to be something direct. An opening comment to leave them floundering. Yet one more was also required in case they managed a quick reply. And it had to be short, brief. It was necessary to think things out. I left quickly but waited outside on the pavement for a moment. No, it would have been pointless at this stage. It had to be right. No sense to go rushing in and blabbing something. It had to be that nothing more could be said after such a confrontation — otherwise what was the point? No, time spent on details would not be wasted. I wondered if they had seen me leave but this was unlikely. I strode home as quickly as possible and went straight into their room and folded up their sleeping bags, I stuck them into the boiler cupboard in the bathroom. Then I got their shaving stuff and stuck it inside beside them. But it was too much. It was ridiculous. What would happen when they found it there? They might not find it at all. Of course they would. They would search the house. They would find it. What would they do? They would know who was responsible right away. What did it matter? It didnt matter. I left it all there. Another idea. I got a chair from their room and took it to behind the staircase to climb onto, to switch off the electricity at the mains. I stuck the chair back in the room and left the house. I went back to the chip shop and sat in the eating-inside area. But it was daft. Who else could have done it? There was nobody else. They would know who was responsible right away. Of course they would and I could just deny it. What could they do? Nothing. There was nothing they could do! All they could do was say, It was you! Ha ha ha. I ordered something to eat. It wasnt as if it was anything bad. Irritating at first but it would all be found. Maybe it already was. In fact it might well have been. They didnt like staying out too late to do a thing even if I’d wanted to. They could have found the stuff and be sound asleep at this very minute. It would have surprised them and they would know who was responsible but so what, this was the best thing about it. Enough to let them see how things shift. I strolled about before going home at last. Maybe I shouldnt have tampered with their belongings. So far they hadnt actually done that to me. Yet compared to other things it was really nothing. If it upset them what on earth would they have done if their door had been kicked open in the early hours of a working morning? Even the hat!

The place was in darkness. Inside I crept up the stairs and undressed as quietly as I possibly could. I decided against using the bathroom until much later when it was certain they would be in and sleeping. But they would be in. It had to be after midnight. I listened. I heard nothing unusual. I continued to listen and then on impulse I got out the sleeping bag and used a sock to muffle the click of the light switch. The light came on. I switched it off.

That was that!

They had missed the bus next morning. When I passed along the hallway they appeared from the room. It was unexpected but I didnt find it totally surprising. Bob muttered something about having read any meters lately? I walked on. They spoke to each other. I could feel the anger getting up in me. I was about shaking. It was coming to the head. But it was the wrong time. I wasnt ready. I turned and stared at them. I didnt speak, I just looked. Then I went out. And even if I had been prepared it would have been pointless. Very different in a place like the public bar of a local pub. That would have been a real confrontation. Yet even then I would have to see everything was right, prepared.

The man in charge was at the window of the office when I arrived. I didnt want to go in. I wanted to get back to the house. It was pointless not to.

Everything was neat in the room. Their sleeping bags were folded, one lying on a chair and one lying on the big trunk. A poster covered the blank spot above the mantelpiece. But if the old woman’s stuff had been shoved back into her room what would be left? Nothing. Sleeping bags and a poster you could buy anywhere. I lit a cigarette. Then all of the furniture including the television set and the orange carpet I carted straight through into the old woman’s place. I could close the door but not lock it. How did they do it? Maybe they didnt even lock it at all! Maybe they just stuck the stuff back and hoped the daughter wouldnt check to see if the actual door had been broken open! I stayed in the house until an hour before they were due off the bus. I didnt come back until much later. Of course they would have known. Who cares? But the daughter could have done it. She could have come in unexpectedly to check in the lounge. And how could she be asked to stand by and let her mother’s belongings be used by a couple of strangers? And what about the television and carpet? She had every right to take them as well. They didnt belong to them. They were only temporary. I had as much right to them as they did. In some respects even more. Turn and turn about. They had their turn and surely I should have mine. My room would have been a great place with a carpet and a television set. Even just to have borrowed them once or twice. We could’ve cut the cards to set the nights. Everybody would’ve wanted Saturday but it could’ve been worked out fairly.

The front door had slammed. When I got to the window I saw them disappear along the street.

A padlock had been fixed onto their door. It was brand new. I hadnt heard it being put on. They must have done the job while I was out and I missed seeing it when I came back. Why did they do it? They didnt have to. They could’ve let things come to a head and that could’ve been the confrontation. It would’ve all been sorted out. They didnt even know for certain it was me. It was obvious. But it wasnt certain. It could easily have been the daughter. And she had every right to do it. They couldnt know for certain it was me. But what would happen if they did? Nothing. Nothing could actually happen. They would have to speak perhaps. And they would have to be speaking soon anyway because I hadnt left my share of the rent out at the weekend. It wasnt on purpose. I just overspent. My wages havent been too good recently. I only had enough for getting to work and getting by on food for the week. But if they wanted the lounge as a bedsitter an agreement had to be worked out. The television and the carpet could be sorted out side by side otherwise — what? Otherwise what?

The padlock was a problem. The only alternative to forcing it was to go in through the window but maybe the thing was bolted down. Knowing how the old woman had been this was very likely. I went into the kitchen and looked about and then I saw a metal rod near the sink. It was long and sturdy enough. But still the snags about after. What would happen after? Who cares. Nothing to worry about — after! The padlock glinted, sparkling new. I struck it over and over but it wouldnt give. I wedged in the rod to use it like a crowbar but this wasnt working right either and I began battering it again and again then wedging it again till finally it creaked and came away, the whole apparatus including the screwnails, bright and shiny new. I booted the door open. The orange carpet was back in position but the television wasnt. Neither was anything else. Not even the sleeping bags. What happened? Had they left it all in the old woman’s room? Or packed up and left? Packed up and left maybe. They hadnt been carrying anything going down the street. They could have done it earlier on. I turned to leave and made out the big writing on the wall. HA HA HA, it said. I could check the other room or just go up the stair. It was cold in the hallway. And that musty smell.