by Bawdy Bloke
“Wednesday,” Sarah wailed. “And six months. You promised me. You promised me that we would have a veto.”
“And you promised me that you would have it filled by the end of September,” her father replied. “So I have. And it's signed so it is final.”
Sarah crossed her arms. “This is bang out of order. Utterly, bang out of order.”
“No Sarah,” he father said. “What is bang out of order is you and your friends refusing to co-operate with me. Now I have been very patient, but I run a business. You wanted to live away from home, I don't charge you girls much rent, even with four of you but I still got costs and the like. Now, he will be moving in and you will make him welcome.”
Sarah puffed. “I will not,” she told him and pushed past him into the kitchen, her face etched with anger and frustration.
“Sarah, you are 23, for Christ's sake. You're making more fuss than the couple of Queens I got sharing that flat up in Hala.”
Sarah snorted and threw open the door where her mother was preparing dinner. “Dad is such a …”
“Cheese!” Cried her brother and Sarah swore as the pocket digital camera flashed in her eyes. “This is brilliant,” he cried and darted into the lounge.
* * * * *
“Cheers,” Adam muttered as he raised the full pint to his lips and sat back in the sofa watching the football out of the corner of his eye.
“Supermarket has 'em on offer,” his father muttered, offering him some peanuts from a small tray. The small television in the corner of the small house flickered and Stuart Hodson got up and banged the top of the ageing CRT set.
“Not time for a new telly then?”
The grey-haired man snorted. “With bloody Ivy and her useless boyfriend leaching off me, where'm I going find money for a new telly.”
“Still unemployed?” Adam asked as the television flickered back to life and the pitch returned.
“Both of 'em. Messing around all day. She's been told she needs to do some training down the job centre, proper angry 'bout it as she says she got a trade but she ain't got a job yet so it's worth doing. He's got away with it 'cos he's got a bad back. He's takin' liberties.”
“Well chuck 'em out then,” Adam replied. “I moved out when I was eighteen.”
Stuart Hodson's face flickered and he sniffed. “Yeah, well, ya always had more goin' for you than Ivy.”
Adam nodded and turned his attention back to the football. “And you're too soft for your own good,” Adam teased.
“Too feckin' right,” his father replied. “That Brad, he makes a hundred quid a week off the benefits but I see nowt. And Lou only gets a tenner off him. And the thieving little shit was at me beer earlier,” he grumbled and Adam shook his head.
“Chuck 'im out. Tell 'im to go live with his folks. Or pay his way.”
“Yeah I will. I should do, I mean.” He looked at his son and mimicked his daughters pleading voice. “But Ivy loves him.”
“But there are loads of jobs around. There's one that's going opposite our place,” Adam told him.
“Well I tried,” Stuart moaned. “But she's obsessed. She ain't gonna get an 'airdressing placement so she should just do whatever but she did the course so she's obsessed. It's feckin' stupid.” He took a swig of his beer and stretched, swearing at the referee on the television. “That's a dive. Referee's effin' blind.”
Adam gave a coy smile and watched as the player blasted the free kick into the resulting stand which resulted in “justice” being muttered. The door to the front room opened and he saw his sister looking in. “Mum says do you want another beer?”
Adam grunted and nodded which his father copied and the fair-haired girl returned holding two cans of chilled lager. “Carl passes his regards,” Adam told her as she passed him his drink.
Ivy giggled and wrapped her hair around her ear. “Did he?” Adam passed her his empty can and turned his gaze towards the television. “That's sweet,” she shrilled, and adjusted her tracksuit.
Adam looked at his father who waited for his daughter to bounce out of the room before speaking. “She better not get involved with him again.”
Adam sighed. “Yeah,” he muttered in a low voice. “Well she loves Brad. She only went out with her exes when Brad played away, didn't she?”
“Well, he's a weird lad. Never knew what she saw in him.” He waited for Adam to puff and looked at him. “I know he's ya friend but ...”
“I know he's a bit of a character. I mean, he took Ivy to his gun club on a date. I can't believe he did that. Or taking her down to the footie. But he's just … Carl.” Stuart glanced over and took a handful of the peanuts. “And Carl has a job. A flat. Prospects.”
Stuart snorted. “Prospects of getting his head kicked in,” came the response. “He's just a weird …” He trailed off as the ball was played through the middle of the defence and his attention turned to the screen. “Round the 'keeper,” he cried and then erupted with cheers at the well taken goal.
Adam had never really known what to make of Brad: he looked like he was a stereotypical Australian – always dressed in T-Shirts, flip-flops and shorts with long dirty blonde hair. He looked like a “dude” from the low-budget films from the nineties, but he was laid back and had his arm around his girlfriend.
They shamelessly kissed at the dinner table and Stuart shook his head. “Hey, Brad. I meant to tell ya, there is a job at our place. Entry level, just cleaning machinery and stuff, but it pays 'bove minimum wage.”
Brad moved his eyes, but not his head towards Adam. “'Sit involve movin', like?” He asked in his Merseyside accent. “'Cos me back. It's agony.”
Adam took a deep breath and licked his lips. “Yeah, but not too much.”
Brad adjusted himself and moved his hand below the table, still clearly touching Ivy, and looked into Adam's eyes. “I dain't want somethin' that's gonna fuck me back up.”
Adam took a deep breath and was interrupted by Ivy. “I heard your new flat burnt down.”
All eyes turned to Adam who nodded. “Yeah. But I've got a room in a house on the other side of Bowerham Road.”
“Oh it's posh up there,” his mother chimed as she passed plates of dinner to everyone at the table. “That'll be costin' ya.”
“Yeah, it looks nice enough, 's'only for a few weeks. 'Til after Christmas. And not too much. Storage'll cost me a small fortune.”
Ivy smiled and looked into the eyes of her partner, busily slipping his hand inside her tracksuit trousers. “Brad,” she whispered and licked her lips. “Later.”
“You could live here,” Louise cooed as she sat down and passed her husband the gravy. “I always said there'll be a bed for you here.”
Adam rubbed his nose. “My old room your en suite now, want me to sleep in the shower?”
His mother laughed. “The other bedroom's big enough for a single and a double bed. We got a spare single in the loft. An airbed or something, isn't that right, love?”
Adam spluttered as she looked inquisitively at her husband. “I don't think Ivy and Brad would want to share a room with me.”
“Ohh … it'll be fine,” the lady responded. “Save you a bit of money.”
Adam waited for his sister and Brad to stare at him, horror etched upon their faces when he responded. “I've signed for it now, it's cheap, just while my new house is sorted.”
Ivy breathed out dramatically, and Adam couldn't help wonder if he should have strung out her concern for a bit longer.”
Chapter III
“Nat. Tab,” Sarah called, the moment she opened the door. “Anyone home?”
“In here,” the booming voice of Tabitha answered from the lounge and Sarah turned right through a door at the foot of the stairs.
“Ahh, we have a problem,” she called out as she kicked off her shoes across the tiled hallway so they landed against the wall in heap. “You'll never guess what my stupid, pig-headed … shit, Nat, are you OK?”
Sarah paused as she loo
ked down at the couch and saw her curvy house mate sobbing on the sofa, her head in her hands. Tabitha was consoling her with her arms around the brunette who wiped her eyes and looked up. “He dumped me,” she said by way of an explanation.
“What, Ryan? Nah. Shit, your serious. What did he do that for? You were going fine, weren't you?”
Natalie's face screwed up as she burst into tears and jerked her hands forward. “I don't know. He just said that we weren't going anywhere, and he didn't love me anymore.”
“Fuck. The bastard. Two years, right?”
“I know.” Natalie looked at her hands and shook her head. “And then he said, we can just be friends. Friends with benefits 'cause he liked the sex.”
“I hope you told him no,” Sarah told her and Natalie smiled through her tears.
“I kicked him in the balls,” Natalie replied with a grin. “Twice. I think he took that as a 'no' cause he just screamed abuse at me.”
“Men. You just can't trust 'em,” Tabitha replied and rubbed her rotund belly. “You better be a young lady.”
Sarah gave an involuntary smile at Tabitha talking to her unborn child and then snapped out of her thoughts when Natalie spoke to her.
“You were saying,” Tabitha asked and Sarah stopped for a moment and thought. “When you came in?”
“Oh yeah. My Dad. My stupid, stupid Dad has arranged for someone to live with us.”
“What?” Her two companions shouted in earnest. “Who?”
“Adam.”
“Adam. But Adam's a boys name.”
“Yes, Tab. I know. I said that.”
“But we, you know. Live our life of freedom and stuff.”
“Yes, I know.” Sarah replied in an annoyed tone. “I fuckin' know that. I don't want him just ogling us, but what can we do?”
“So what can we do?” Tabitha asked and Sarah shrugged.
“I dunno. It's in the contract,” the teacher replied to a howl of annoyance from Tabitha.
“It says we have a veto. We agreed to a veto if one of us leaves.”
“Yes, for the first two months. I've been through this with him and he is not budging. Says he has a legal right and has costs to meet.”
“I'd rather have that Alice or even that druggie than a guy.”
“Me too,” Sarah replied instantly “But he just wouldn't listen. It's some guy who's moving out of his flat into one that's just gone up in smoke.”
“Shit,” Natalie cried. “Is he all right?”
“Yeah. Well Dad didn't say he wasn't,” Sarah told the room. “Didn't ask. I mean, I guess he ain't in the burns unit 'cause he signed for the room. I was told is his new place is chargrilled and we are the only place he can stay.”
“I don't like it,” Tabitha replied. “I am pregnant.”
“Yeah, I tried that.”
“And vulnerable.”
“And that,” Sarah interrupted triumphantly. “He's said he is moving in and that's that.”
“So what do we do now? I don't want to wear clothes …” Natalie trailed off and took a deep breath.
Sarah sighed. “I guess it marks the end of our naturism for a few months,” she declared in a concerned voice.
“Yeah, 'cause he will be proper freaked out by it all,” the vivacious Natalie added. “Ryan was always well freaked out when I'd wander 'round his house starkers.”
“He lived with four other guys – three of whom were nerdy singletons,” Sarah told her friend. “He probably didn't want them lusting over you.”
“Well that's as maybe. But I don't want those restrictions in my house. I want to be able to run around with nothing on, if I want to. I certainly don't want some guy constantly staring at me as if I am some zoo exhibit.”
Tabitha sniffed. “We can't choose, can we? If he is moving in, then we just got to see what happens, right?”
Sarah snorted. “Sometimes, I fuckin' hate my family,” she moaned. “Dad is bang out of order.”
* * * * *
“Birds? A house of whining, screaming women?” Carl asked over his pint of beer.
“Yeah, tell me about it. I've nicked our van at work and dumped all me shit I don't need in storage. I got it again tomorrow afternoon to move in,” Adam moaned, nursing his pint.
“Ahh they'll be moaning about the telly and music and the toilet. Women are fuckin' obsessed with the toilet. So what if the seat is up, why can't the lazy cunts just get their hand and put it down. We don't moan when they leave it down, do we?”
Adam shrugged. “Yeah, that Molly who I lived with for a few weeks, she went mental at stupid things. Like using the fridge for beer and having a wank in the shower.”
Carl screwed up his face. “Ya gonna get fuckin' mithered to fuck ain't ya?”
Adam took a gulp of his beer. “Yeah, but I ain't got much of a choice. I ain't going back 'ome. Ivy's trying to get knocked up and I ain't listening to her all night.” Carl smiled, he remembered the charms of Adam's youngest sister very well and Adam glared at him grinning. “Yeah, stop it, mate.”
“Sorry,” Carl muttered and stared out of the pub window to look at the puddles forming. “She's a hot piece.”
Adam rolled his eyes and changed the subject. “How was that march ya were on?”
“Protest,” Carl replied. “Good. Some Unite Against rubbish were there but they got their 'eads kicked in. Proper good, we had some Union leader at the back of the Supermarket and he was in a proper bad way once we'd finished with 'im.”
Adam sighed and Carl scowled at him. “Ya gonna be on Crimewatch then?”
Carl guffawed. “Fuck no. I ain't messin' him up in front of cameras. I ain't stupid but we got another protest two weeks time. Bradford.”
“Why?” Adam asked finishing the last of his beer.
“Ahh, some Pakis want to build a mosque next to a Church. They can fuck off if they think their dirty shit should be next to God's Church.”
Adam gave a titter. “Didn't have you down as a church-goer.”
Carl sneered. “It's all flower arranging and hymns and shit. I ain't going to that bollocks ever. But it's the principle of it ain't it? Church of England and our heritage next to some filthy Paki place. It ain't 'appening. It needs burning down.”
Adam sighed and got up. “I gotta go and pack last few bits.” Carl downed the last of this drink and stretched his legs.
“Last night,” he teased. “Before you move in. I betya they ain't gonna have beer in the fridge.”
“Yeah, and they ain't got Cable or Sky; I checked with the landlord. So no sports.”
“ Well it's birds ain't it. It'll be Jane Austen dramas and cookery shit,” Carl muttered in response. “They'll be on your case all fuckin' day.”
“Ahh well, I'll just have to give 'em the Adam Charm won't I?”
“Nah. Yah need to lay down the law mate. Tell those fuckin' birds to stop with the shit. It ain't natural anyway, bet they lez up and have gay friends. Last thing you want is a load of queers coming 'round every day, sniffing your keks and shit.”
Adam shrugged. “I've been told by James to be charming. First night, thought some drinks and a takeaway maybe.”
Carl sneered. “Fancy an Indian before ya pack?”
“Ahh go on then.”
* * * * *
“Natalie, close the door,” the stout gentleman told her and he watched his assistant shut his office door, faded and downtrodden before turning and sitting down on a worn chair.
“All right, Jeff. You wanted to see me?”
“Yes,” he said brusquely and rubbed his face. “Just so-es you know, we are getting rid of four of our vehicles,” he told her and rubbed his brow. “We haven't had the bookings and it seems silly to 'ave 'em in the yard, costing money.”
Natalie nodded. “Four? Christ, we only discussed two.”
Jeff wiped his eyes. “Yes I know. But we got a good offer and Taylors, up in Kendal, they offered us some money for 'em and well, we can't keep having coaches idle.
”
Natalie nodded. “They get some trade from the Lakes,” she replied, somewhat philosophically. “And we are a bit far out here.”
He puffed in agreement. “Ya not wrong there. And the two Theatre groups losing funding from the Government 'asn't 'elped. I mean, they were good for so many trips.”
“Fuckin' Tories,” Natalie muttered. “So which four are going?”
“Coaches 26 to 29.”
“The new ones?” Natalie cried out. “We only got them two years ago. I thought we were going to ditch the bangers.”
Jeff squirmed. “I got a good price for 'em,” he told her. “They wanted the new ones and I got a good deal. Now, Rufus, Steve, Toby and Paul all need to be told that their coaches are going to Kendal,” he announced. “Can ya handle that today please.”
“Me?” Natalie spluttered. “You want me to do it?”
Jeff nodded. “I got an important meeting,” he responded immediately. “I got a meeting in town.”
Natalie scowled at him briefly; it wasn't usual for him to be evasive and certainly the dismissal of four of their employees was an event she expected the owner and manager to do. “Are you sure …?” She trailed off and Jeff nodded.
“Natalie, you'll be fine. Now, I got to go and speak to the Bank.” Natalie's face dropped and he pushed both hands down on the table. “It's fine. Just a yearly review meeting, the banks love 'em,” he told her. “But if I miss it then they start asking questions. And I know Rufus, and Toby and Paul. Well they all live closer to Kendal than Lancaster, and I know Taylor's are looking for drivers, so it'll suit them.”
“Right OK,” Natalie muttered and Jeff slid four piles of paper over to her.
“You're my Operations Manager,” he told her with a grin. “Since Dave left I need you to do these sorts of things for me.”
“Right,” Natalie muttered and he tapped the top of the papers.
“You'll need these. Be good to 'em. But I am sure they won't mind.”
* * * * *
“Dad,” Sarah cooed and sidled up to her father. “Look, I know we've said some stuff but we've had a chat and we think Alicia mightn't be so bad after all.”
Her father sighed and looked at her as he put his breakfast bowl in the sink. “He is moving in, it is too late.”
“But Dad I was thinking.”
“No,” came the response.
“But Dad, listen. That girl who was at your party, Wren or something, she is in one of your houses. Why doesn't she move in with us and let this Adam guy move in with her friends.”