by M J Dees
Jim wondered whether he should mention that his own mother had been a foreign immigrant. He sensed Cook had joined the Unity party out of a sense of boredom and too much time spent on social media rather than a sense of patriotic duty.
“You should join, Jim, it’s changed my life. On Sundays I used to go to church in the morning and the evening and I had nothing to do in-between. Now I go to the Unity meetings, they have martial arts classes, you would enjoy yourself. They teach us skills we can really use to defend our neighbourhoods.”
Jim suspected he practiced these skills with his friends in vigilante raids on unsuspecting foreigners, immigrants, refugees and the occasional homeless person.
“Did you see that terrorist they shot in London?” Cook asked Jim. “Shot him dead on the spot. No time for his human rights to arrive.”
He said this in a way that suggested he considered human rights to be a nuisance, which impeded true and instant justice.
Richardson arrived, saving Jim from Cook’s politics. Richardson seemed only interested in women and describing his conquests of the weekend.
“You haven’t heard the news,” he said as he removed his coat.
“You got off with some girl this weekend,” said Cook. “Who was she?”
The staff room didn’t get to find out because, at that moment, the head of faculty, Professor Bailey, entered.
“Ah, Jim, glad to see you’re settling in. Can I have a quick word in my office?”
Jim followed the professor, feeling like a naughty boy on his way to see the head teacher.
“Listen, Jim,” Bailey began after he had settled behind his desk, hidden beneath piles of papers and books. “I need you to go through the clearing applications today. Do you mind staying a little late?”
“I thought that was Cook’s department.”
“Normally it is, but he has a Unity meeting this evening and I don’t want to create any problems.”
“The thing is, I promised my wife...”
“I’ve already asked Cook to share the documents with you, Jim. There’s a good man.”
Jim had the impression that Bailey considered the matter settled, and he left the professor alone.
*
Jim hadn’t dared discuss remuneration when the chancellor had offered him the job, but when his salary landed in his account, it made a much smaller impression than even his most pessimistic expectations; it was less than he had been receiving in Edinburgh, and the cost of living in London was greater.
He would have to tell his sister that she would have to wait for any rent, but Tony had been right, she would only squander it. But he would have to give her something at some point. She could be very persistent.
“We could do with a dresser,” Annabel commented one night.
“Do we need one?” asked Jim, satisfied with a bed, an armchair, and a writing desk.
“I like to do my hair at a dresser. Don’t look like that, Jim. I’m only dreaming.”
The doctor had told Annabel she should get some exercise and so she had taken to walking to furniture shops and making notes about the items on sale.
Jim would have liked to surprise her by having a dresser delivered when he received his salary at the end of the month, but when he looked at his balance on the app, he realised it was out of the question.
On the way home, he passed the furniture shop where Annabel had pointed out to him the dresser she wanted. He stopped to look at it, but knew they couldn’t afford it. He went in and asked whether it would be possible to pay by instalments.
“I’m afraid not,” the sales attendant shook his head.
“Why not?”
“Credit has become too unreliable and credit insurance is too expensive.”
Jim went home and told Annabel. She agreed they should not pay his sister’s rent this month.
“Especially considering all the work I’ve been doing around the house,” said Annabel. “I’ve barely touched my music.”
She laid a hand on her belly and she could feel her baby move.
The door opened.
“Can I see you about something, Jim?” It was his sister, peering around the door.
He dragged himself up and out of the room. By the time he had finished, Annabel was getting into bed.
“What did you say to your sister about the rent?” she asked.
“Nothing, I told her we’ve got no money at the moment.”
“Aren’t you going to give her anything?”
“Yes, but not just yet.”
He lay in bed listening to the sounds of the city outside, punctuated by the sounds of Tony and his sister hosting another party.
“Cuddle me,” said Annabel, and he did.
“Is everything going to be okay?” she asked after a while.
“Everything will be fine.”
There was a knock at the door.
“May I come in?”
“Come in Lisa,” said Jim. “You are not disturbing us.”
His sister entered.
“I saw your light was on,” she began, turning to glance back at the door. “I don’t suppose they’ll miss me. No-one bothers about me.”
“You’ve had too much to drink, Lisa,” said Jim before turning to Annabel. “She’s always like this when she’s had too much to drink. First she gets emotional and then she starts an argument.”
“Jim, don’t be like that,” Annabel reproached him. “That’s no way for a brother to speak to his sister.”
“What about my rent?” Lisa burst out, getting straight to the point.
“You’ll get it,” said Jim. “Not today or tomorrow, but soon.”
“I want my money. I’ll be back in a moment,” she said, staggering out of the room.
“Let’s put the light out,” said Jim as soon as his sister had left. “I wish we could lock the door.”
“She’s your sister.”
“More’s the pity. It’s because I know what she’s like. You are still taken in by her because you only see her in the daytime when she’s sober and witty. But she doesn’t like anyone. Tony will soon get wise to the fact that she is using him.”
“Jim, I don’t want to hear you speaking about your sister like that again. You may be right, but I don’t want to think my brother could speak to me like that.”
There was another knock at the door.
“We’re sleeping now, Lisa,” said Jim.
“Pardon me a minute.” It was not Jim’s sister but Tony, tipsy. “Only a minute and I’ll go.”
“Get out, Tony,” said Jim.
“You’re a charming woman,” said Tony, sitting on the side of the bed.
“This is me,” said Jim.
“I’ll go around the bed.”
“You’re meant to be going out.”
“I will, I’ve only come about the rent.”
“Oh God,” sighed Jim and Annabel in unison.
“You know your sister’s been moaning all night about the rent. She messed up the whole evening and now she’s crying. So I thought, Tony, you’ve been making good money, and you’d give it to the girl anyway, why not let the kids give it to her?”
“No, Tony, you don’t have to...” Jim began.
“Come here, here’s the money.”
There was a noise at the door.
“Shhh,” said Tony. “Don’t let her know I’m here.”
“Tony? Are you here, Tony?” Lisa called out. She switched on the light. But Tony had hidden himself. “Where has he got to this time?”
Jim and Annabel followed her eyes, but it wasn’t Tony she had found. It was some banknotes on the corner of the bed.
“We’ve been talking it over,” said Annabel. “That’s the rent for the next couple of weeks, please take it.”
“Well, I’m glad you changed your mind,” said Lisa, taking the money. “This’ll do for two months, plus there’s the gas and electricity, but we can work that out another time. You know the government is following the US
example of nationalising the gold. I was thinking of hiding my jewellery under the floorboards, but they’re talking about house to house searches. Well... that’s that... Thank you... goodnight.”
Lisa left.
“What a woman,” said Tony, emerging from his hiding place. “She’s done very well for two months. Excuse me, I should go to her.”
Annabel and Jim lay still for a while.
“We can’t afford that kind of rent,” said Annabel.
“No.”
“And we can’t get more and more indebted to Tony.”
“No.”
“I can’t go through this every month.”
“No.”
“Or take any more of her damn parties.”
“Of course not.”
“We have to move out.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll start looking for somewhere tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter Eight – 23 years and 1 month before the collapse
It wasn’t easy for Annabel, trudging around different properties, climbing all those stairs. She had to stop for a rest and to wipe the sweat from her brow all the time. The pain in the small of her back had returned. She was struggling to keep the reasons for her excursions from her sister-in-law’s flat a secret. Jim was all in favour of telling Lisa how ridiculous he thought her demands for rent were, but Annabel felt it was better to do the flat hunting in secret. Annabel’s absence from the flat during the day meant that the dirty dishes were piling up, and Jim insisted that neither of them do it in the evenings.
The landlady of the first flat Annabel looked at took one look at her bump.
“You are expecting, are you?”
Annabel nodded.
“If we’d wanted kids bawling all the time, we’d’ve had some of our own and started a bleedin’ choir.”
The next one was much the same.
“It’s not me, you see. I love kids, I do. It’s my husband, he can’t stand ‘em, sorry.”
The third one took a fresh approach.
“I don’t mind babies, we can’t do without ‘em, can we? But they can do a lot of damage to a flat and I don’t think we’re covered on it by the insurance, see.”
“We have such nice furniture,” said another. “We’d have to charge you extra.”
“No thanks,” said Annabel.
She allowed herself to see some lovely flats, but they were all asking more than they could afford.
‘Why couldn’t we earn more money?’ she thought to herself.
When she got back to her sister-in-law’s, Jim was waiting for her.
“Nothing?” he asked.
“Not yet, But I’ve a feeling I’ll find something tomorrow.”
This was not true. Annabel had no hope of finding anything. Their budget wasn’t large enough to get anywhere decent. She expanded her search further and further from the centre into areas which would make Jim’s daily commute more complicated, into areas where the living spaces became more crowded and poorly maintained.
“I’ll show you around but you won’t take it,” the landlords would say, and they were right because they could see Annabel’s middle-class sensibilities from a mile away and no matter how much Annabel felt she had solidarity with the poor of Britain, she didn’t want to live with them.
But Annabel would pretend they had misjudged her and would make them show her around the rooms with the damp stains, anyway.
“Yes, we had cockroaches and mice, but we put down some poison and they haven’t come back,” they would say. “A child? Bring as many as you like. More noise around the place won’t make much difference. I have five of my own.”
“Thank you,” Annabel would say. “I have others to see. Perhaps I’ll come back with my husband.”
‘No, you won’t,’ said the landlords’ expressions.
On the way home, Annabel stopped in a corner shop to buy some washing powder and softener. She felt herself blacking out and held on to the counter to stop herself from falling.
“Ahnaf!” shouted the woman at the till to her husband.
Ahnaf brought Annabel a chair and his wife brought Annabel a glass of water and then, after much protestation from Annabel, a cup of sweet milky tea.
“I’m sorry; I’ve been doing so much walking.”
“You shouldn’t,” said the woman. “A bit of walking is healthy in your condition, but not too much.”
“But I have to. I have to find somewhere to live.”
The floodgates opened, and Annabel poured out the entire story to the confused shopkeepers. The woman was thin and very serious, while the man was chubby and looked jolly.
“Don’t just stand there, think,” the woman chastised her husband.
“What am I meant to think about?”.
“Oh, don’t be silly, you know. Sabbir Beggum.”
“Oh, I’m finding her somewhere to live. Why didn’t you say?”
“How are things at the Beggums? Is it still free?”
“Is Beggum planning to let?”
“The place where they used to store the furniture.”
“That’s the first I’ve heard of it. But even if he wants to rent it out, it’s small. And she’ll never get up the stepladder,” he nodded to Annabel.
“Rubbish. You come and lie down for a bit,” the woman told Annabel. “We shut at four and I’ll take you to the Beggums’.”
“Thank you very much,” said Annabel. She was grateful for a lie down and fell asleep straight away.
*
When Jim entered his sister’s house, the beam of a torch greeted him in his face.
“Stop! Hands up!” came a shout, which was clearly Annabel.
“What’s going on?” asked Jim. He wasn’t in the mood for pranks. “Where did you get that?”
“We need it. There’s no light on the stairs of our new palace.”
“We’ve got somewhere?”
“Well, I haven’t agreed to rent it yet.”
“Oh no, what if someone has already rented it?”
“They won’t. They’re saving it for me till tonight. We need to go round there as soon as you have eaten.”
While he ate, he kept badgering her with questions, but she just kept telling him he’d have to wait and see.
“It isn’t a real flat,” Annabel explained on the way. “I hope you won’t get upset with me.”
She led him off the street beside a cinema and into a courtyard which was more of a factory store yard. There was a sign above a garage door which read Beggum’s Furniture.
“That’s our toilet,” said Annabel, pointing somewhere in the dark courtyard.
“Where?”
“There,” she said, pointing again. “That little door at the back.”
“You’re kidding.”
“And this is our entrance,” she said, opening the garage door beneath the sign.
They entered a large storage shed full of old furniture. Annabel shone the torch about, but all Jim saw was a tangle of spider webs.
“I hope this isn’t our living room,” he said.
“This is Beggum’s. He deals in old furniture.”
Jim followed Annabel to a small wooden staircase as steep as a ladder. As he reached it, he realised it was more of a ladder than a staircase.
“Are you going up there? In your condition?”
“I’ll show you,” she said, already climbing.
He followed her up to what felt like the roof, where she opened another door and switched on an electric light.
“Here we are,” said Annabel.
They stood in a bedroom. There was another room, which Jim could see into because it had no door. The other room contained a sofa and a desk, and an assortment of furniture and a carpet.
“Is there a kitchen?” he asked.
Annabel led him through to the other room, past the sofa and desk, to a microwave and a sink.
“How much does it cost?”
“Practic
ally nothing. The council won’t allow Beggum to rent it out because it doesn’t meet building regulations, so he’s willing to rent it to us for next to nothing.”
“How are you going to get up here?”
“Leave that to me.”
*
“I’m not taking any money for that place,” said Beggum. “If you know what I mean.”
“Yes,” said Jim.
“You know what I mean?” said Beggum, louder.
“Yes?” said Jim.
“Just give him the money,” said Annabel.
“The lady knows what she’s talking about,” said Beggum, taking the money from Jim. “This will do for half of October. And don’t worry about the bump lady, when it gets too big we’ll put up a hoist with a chair on it.”
“Well, that’s one less thing to worry about,” said Annabel.
“When do you want to move in?” asked Beggum.
“As soon as possible,” said Jim. “Would you be able to help us move, we don’t have any transport.”
“It’ll cost you a whiskey and a beer, and I require payment up front.”
“You want to do a runner,” said Beggum, accepting his pint from Jim. “Just make sure you have my rent ready on the first of every month, otherwise I’ll move you again for free, onto the street.”
When they arrived at Jim’s sister’s flat, it sounded like Tony and his sister were busy entertaining guests in the living room, as usual. They sneaked to their own room and packed up their belongings as quickly and as quietly as they could manage before Beggum helped them to carry the luggage to his van, which was waiting downstairs.
They only made it as far as the hall before Jim, struggling with the philodendron plant, lost his grip on a suitcase, and it tumbled to the floor with a loud thud.
“If they didn’t hear that, they deserve to lose their money,” said Beggum.
The group stood frozen in the hall and, sure enough, the door of the living room opened and appeared. When he saw the group, his smile disappeared, and he pulled the door closed behind him.
“Tony, we’re moving. Please, you know why,” Annabel implored.