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!