by Adele Abbott
“Just keep your hands off them!” She fixed Neil with her gaze.
“We never had this trouble with Ruth.” Neil poured himself a bowl of cornflakes.
“That’s because Ruth satisfied her hunger with human blood. You should be grateful I stick to synthetic. At least you know the Rogue Retrievers won’t be hammering on our door at any moment.”
“Talking of which,” Charlie said. “I still don’t understand why you two vetoed that Rogue Retriever who came to see the room last week.”
“You do know what the Rogue Retrievers do, don’t you?” Dorothy said.
“Of course I do. But it’s not like any of us gets up to anything that would get us taken back to Candlefield, is it?”
“It would be like living on a knife-edge,” Neil said.
“Just one wrong move, and ‘Pow’,” Dorothy said.
“Precisely! Pow!” Neil thumped the table. “Have you ever seen a Rogue Retriever in action?”
Charlie shook his head.
“I have.” Neil tipped the bowl to his lips, and drank the last few drops of milk.
“Must you do that?” Dorothy pulled a face. “It’s gross.”
“That’s the best bit. Like I was saying, I had a wizard friend who got caught by the Rs.”
“Sounds painful.” Charlie laughed. “What had he done, this friend of yours?”
“Nothing much. Just had a minor disagreement with a bookmaker.”
“And?”
“And turned him into a frog. Or a toad. I never have been able to tell the difference. Anyway, along comes a Rogue Retriever—Daze, Taze or maybe Haze—some stupid name like that—and throws a net over poor old Billy. Pow! He disappeared. Never seen him since.”
“If we don’t find someone to take that fourth bedroom soon,” Charlie said. “We’ll all be out on our Rs.”
“I don’t understand why it’s so difficult.” Neil sighed.
“It’s pretty obvious why,” Dorothy said. “It’s that stupid ghost of yours.”
“I’ve told you before, Socky isn’t my ghost.” Neil added his bowl to the mountain of dishes.
“You’re the one who invited him in here.”
“I didn’t realise he was a he. I thought it might be a pretty young female ghost.”
“So why didn’t you send him packing when you saw who he was?”
“It doesn’t work like that. Once you’ve allowed a ghost to attach itself to you, it will only go away if it decides to.”
“No one is going to rent that room with him in it,” Dorothy said. “It’s always freezing cold, and then there’s the sound of him walking around on his peg leg.”
“You have to try to persuade him to leave,” Charlie said. “If we don’t get that fourth room let soon, we’ll all be out on the streets.”
“Okay, but I’ll just be wasting my time.” Neil made his way to the fourth bedroom. As soon as he stepped inside, he felt the familiar chill. It was several degrees colder than the rest of the apartment.
“Socky!” He regretted the word as soon as it had left his lips.
A ghostly figure appeared in front of him. The man was dressed in a long drape coat. “My name, I’ll remind you, is Tobias Fotheringham.”
“Of course, Tobias. Sorry.”
“Did you want something, young man?”
“We have a bit of a problem. We really need to let this room, so you’ll have to move somewhere else.”
The ghost laughed. “Young man, I’ll have you know that I’ve been in this building since the early 1900s. I once owned this place. Have you forgotten that this building was home to Fotheringham Socks? The best socks in the country. And I was the wealthiest landowner around these parts. I could have bought and sold you a thousand times over.”
“That’s all very interesting, but that was a very long time ago. This is not a sock factory any more, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I’ve certainly noticed. After my fateful accident, I stayed in the factory to keep an eye on things. Things weren’t always run as I would have liked, but at least socks were still being manufactured. But then, the place closed, and they did this to it. What is this building now anyway? What possible use is it to anyone?”
“These are apartments. People live here.”
“This room is not an ‘apartment.’ This is my office, and has been for over a hundred years.”
“But can’t you see—it’s no longer an office? There’s a bed over—”
“It’s still my office! I may have allowed you to occupy other areas of the factory. But no one, and I mean no one, will be moving into my office.” He hobbled across the floor, and gazed out of the window.
“There’s one thing I’ve never really understood, Tobias.”
“What now?”
“After you’d lost your leg, how—err—where—err—did you come by that?” He pointed to Socky’s wooden leg.
“You mean Albert.” Socky tapped it.
“Albert?”
“That’s what I call him. I got him from Limbs-A-Plenty. It’s a thriving little business in Ghost Town. When I came around, and discovered that I was—err—”
“Dead?”
“A ghost. I took one step, and then fell over. That’s when I realised that my leg had gone. Very inconvenient.”
“I can see how it would be.”
“Someone suggested I go to Limbs-A-Plenty. They had a number of different colours available, but I thought the natural wood look was best. Don’t you agree?”
“Definitely. Anyway, I was just thinking that you’d be much more at home living somewhere like the museum. They have lots of old things there.”
“Old things? What makes you think I have anything in common with old things?”
“There’d be other ghosts from your era there. You’d have something to talk about—like socks and stuff.”
“I’m sorry, young man, but that simply isn’t going to happen. This is my office, and I plan to stay here.”
“Well, I’m sorry too, Tobias, but another flatmate will be moving in here very soon.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Quite likely.”
Neil could see he wasn’t going to change Socky’s mind, so he re-joined the others.
“Well?” Dorothy said.
“No chance. Tobias Fotheringham is not for moving.”
“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” Charlie picked up a bottle of eye drops, leaned his head back and put a couple of drops into each eye. “I like it here in Washbridge, among the humans, but life was so much easier back in Candlefield. At least we could be ourselves there.”
“Yeah, but there’s no internet in Candlefield.” Neil grabbed his iPad. “No Facebook, no Twitter, no videos of a pig wearing a funny hat.”
“I don’t get it.” Charlie had his eyes shut tight as the eye drops kicked in. “We’re meant to be supernatural. How come we can’t get online in Candlefield? If humans can do it, surely we can?”
“We could if it wasn’t for the Combined Sup Council,” Dorothy said. “They’re stuck in their ways. They block the idea every time it’s floated.”
“Looks like we’re stuck here in Washbridge, then.” Neil tapped his watch. “Have you seen the time? It’s a quarter to nine. We’d better get a move on.”
Just then, there was a knock on the door.
“Don’t answer it,” Neil said, in little more than a whisper. “It’ll be Redman.”
“How do you know?” Dorothy spoke in the same hushed tone.
“Who else would it be? He knows he’ll catch us in at this time of day.”
A second knock—louder this time. “I know you’re in there!”
“Told you.” Neil looked at the other two.
“We may as well answer it.” Charlie shrugged his enormous shoulders. “He isn’t going to go away.”
“But we don’t have his money,” Dorothy said.
He knocked a third time—even louder.
Char
lie unlocked the door. “Morning, Mr Redman. We were just on our way out.”
“Think again.” Redman was a bruiser of a werewolf who towered over even Charlie. The rumour was he’d once been big in Mixed Martial Arts. “You three and I are going to have a little chat.”
“Couldn’t we do it tonight, Mr Redman?” Neil’s voice betrayed his nervousness.
“We either do it now, or you’ll find the locks have been changed when you get home tonight.”
“Legally, I don’t think you can do that,” Neil said.
The other two looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. Redman took two steps forward, and stooped down so his face was inches from Neil’s. “Sorry, little wizard boy. What did you just say?”
“Of course, I could be wrong,” Neil conceded.
“Sit over there!” Redman pointed to the sofa in front of the picture window.
Although it was a three-seater, Charlie took up almost two seats, so Neil was forced to perch on the arm.
“Mr Redman, I know we’re late with—”
“Did I ask you to speak?” Redman fixed Neil with his gaze.
“No. Sorry.”
“You’re late with the rent—again!”
“Ten days isn’t all that late.” Dorothy hoped her smile might win him over.
“You’re ten days late on this month’s rent, but over forty days late on last month’s.”
“Last month’s?” Dorothy and Charlie both glared at Neil.
“I can explain, guys.”
“Not on my time you can’t,” Redman continued. “You three can sort out your little squabbles in your own time. Right now, you’re going to listen to me. It’s obvious to anyone with even half a brain, which presumably rules out you three, that you’re never going to make rent until you get someone in the fourth bedroom.”
“We’ve been trying,” Charlie said.
“Not hard enough. It’s over three months since we last had this same conversation, and you still haven’t found anyone. So, now it’s my turn.”
“What do you mean?” Dorothy looked worried. “Your turn?”
“You three are never going to find someone to take the fourth room, so I’m going to find someone for you.”
“Hold on!” Neil stood up, but then immediately thought better of it, and sat back down again. “That isn’t on. We should be the ones to decide who lives with us.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Am I being unfair? Do all of you feel that way?”
“Yeah.” Charlie nodded.
Dorothy nodded too.
“How very thoughtless of me. There is one other option.” Redman hesitated. “The three of you can pack your stuff, and be out of here by five o’clock tonight. Now, which is it to be?”
“I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if you found someone,” Charlie said.
“Yeah, that would be okay.” Neil managed a weak smile.
“I’m cool with that.” Dorothy agreed.
“Cool! Then we’re all agreed.” Redman started for the door. “You can expect your new flatmate within the next few days. Make them welcome.”
“Did you have someone in mind?” Neil called after him.
“Someone who is tidier than you three.” Redman glanced around the room. “That shouldn’t be difficult.” He slammed the door behind him.
“I can explain, guys!” Neil said, when the other two turned on him.
“This had better be good.” Charlie looked ready to tear his flatmate’s head off.
“You remember when I told you that my car had blown a head gasket last month.”
“Yeah?”
“I used the rent to pay for the repair.”
“Not cool, dude,” Charlie said. “You should have told us.”
“I thought I’d be able to pay it back without you two having to know.”
“You should have said something, Neil,” Dorothy said. “We’d have understood.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“Looks like we’re going to get a new flatmate sooner than we thought, Socky or no Socky.” Neil started towards the door.
“You two go on ahead,” Charlie said. “I’ve just remembered something.”
“What now?” Neil sighed.
“I’ve got an ingrown toe nail. I need to cut it, or I’ll be hobbling around all day.”
Once Charlie was sure the other two had left the building, he went onto the landing and called, “Pretty. Come on, Pretty! Hurry up or you’ll miss your morning milk. Pretty! Pretty!”
He hadn’t noticed the young, brunette witch coming down the stairs from the floor above.
“Pretty!”
“Why thank you, kind sir.”
He blushed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean you—err—that’s to say, you are pretty, but I—err—was calling—err.”
She flashed him a sexy smile, and carried on down the stairs.
“Oh boy!” He wanted the floor to open up and swallow him.
Just then, a ginger cat came running up the stairs, and began to rub against Charlie’s legs.
“Where have you been, Pretty? I’ve just made a complete fool of myself because of you. Come on, we’ll have to be quick this morning, or I’ll be late for work.”
The cat followed him into the apartment where it obviously knew its way to the kitchen. It weaved around Charlie’s legs while he took the milk from the fridge, and poured it into a saucer. “There you go, girl. Drink up.”
The cat was lapping the milk even before Charlie had let go of the saucer.
“Don’t make a mess. If the others find out I’ve let you in again, they’ll kill me.”
Within less than a minute, the cat had licked the saucer dry, and began to meow.
“Sorry, I haven’t got any food. I’ll bring some home for you tonight.”
He picked up the saucer, rinsed it under the tap, then grabbed the cat, and hurried downstairs and out of the door. “See you tonight, Pretty.”
“Did you buy that lame story about the ingrown toenail?” Dorothy said, as Neil drove them into town.
“Why? Do you think he was lying?”
“Of course he was. I bet you this month’s rent that he’s been feeding that stupid cat again.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“I’ll know when we get back tonight. I marked the milk bottle this morning when I was putting my blood back into the fridge.”
Neil laughed. “You marked the milk bottle?”
“Of course I did. I know what he’s like. As soon as our backs are turned, he lets that smelly cat into the apartment. You know the terms of the lease: no animals other than caged birds are allowed. We’re already in Redman’s bad books. If Charlie gets us thrown out because of a stupid cat, I’ll swing for him.”
“I hope Redman gets us a pretty young witch.”
“Don’t you have enough women on the go at the moment?”
“I can’t help it if all women find me irresistible.”
“Not all women.”
“Okay, but you’re the exception, and I still think you’re playing hard to get.”
Chapter 3
“What are you doing down here, Carly?” Dougal shouted. “Are you lost?”
Carly blushed, but didn’t respond to his jibe.
“Over here, Carly.” Susan stood up and waved to her.
“I don’t know how you can work with these pigs,” Carly said when she reached Susan’s desk.
“I’ve dealt with worse.”
“I’ve just taken an ad which might interest you. I called your extension, but it was engaged.”
“Sorry, I’ve been on the phone most of the morning.”
“It’s a flat-share, and it looks pretty good to me.” She dropped the copy on Susan’s desk. “You’ll have to move quickly though because I reckon it’ll get snapped up.”
“Four-way share? I’d hoped to find a two-way. Still, it does look good.”
“It is. Those loft-style apartments are quite new, and from
what I hear, they’re enormous. They’re in what used to be the old sock factory.”
“Thanks, Carly. I owe you one.”
“No problem. Stella told me what you did to Bob Bragg. He’s had that coming for ages. Good luck with the apartment.”
***
“What?” The man shouted so loudly that Susan had to move the phone away from her ear.
“I said I’m calling about the flat-share.”
“How do you know about it already? The ad isn’t in the paper until tomorrow. If you’re a friend of those three losers, you can forget it.”
“I work at The Bugle. The people in ad sales alerted me to your ad.”
“Oh, okay. Do you want to see it?”
“That would be great. When?”
“It’ll have to be this afternoon—two o’clock. It’s the only time I can make it, today.”
“I’m at work.”
“Please yourself, but the first person to see it will take it.”
“Okay. I’ll be there. Will the other tenants want to interview me too?”
“Other—? Oh, wait, do you think I’m one of the tenants?”
“That’s what I’d assumed.”
“I own the property. Don’t worry about the tenants—I’m the one who’ll decide if you get the apartment or not. You’ve got the address, I take it?”
“Yes.”
“Be there at two. And don’t be late. I hate to be kept waiting.”
“Okay, Mr—?”
“Redman.”
He’d hung up before Susan could ask him anything else. She thought it a bit weird that the other tenants weren’t going to be involved in the process, but anything to get out of that awful motel.
***
When lunchtime came around, Dougal tried once again to persuade her to join him and his friends in the Walrus and Hammer. She declined. Susan couldn’t imagine anything worse than spending an hour in their company, watching them get hammered. Instead, she ate an egg and cress sandwich at her desk. She’d bought it on the way into work that morning.
“You can’t stay in here all lunch hour, Susan,” Stella said.
“I’m okay. I’ve had a sandwich.”
“Why don’t you come and have a coffee with me?”