3.9

 

She stood on the metal platform, which only swayed slightly under her weight. If Paul could sit out here, it was probably safe, since he was a good twenty or thirty kilos heavier than she was. The fixings that bolted it to the brickwork had been painted over long ago, but there was obvious bubbling of rust below the shining paint. She took a step back, away from the edge. "Cannock Towers? I didn't think you could see Cannock from this far away."

"You can't." Paul pointed to a set of tower blocks a kilometre or two away. I meant the tower blocks on the Cannock Road. They dismantled several of them but there are still two left. Barry used to go over there once or twice a week to get... well, things you can't easily get through the internet." He mimed smoking a cigarette and she nodded. Something she'd tried as an undergraduate and never gone back to. It was, she felt, akin to burning money unless you were suffering the sort of pain that paracetamol wouldn't touch.

Her back to the garden, she surveyed the kitchen. The lack of a cooker notwithstanding, it did seem like there was adequate cupboard space, though the 'shared facilities provided' were limited to a kettle, a toaster and a microwave oven that had seen better days. The floor was covered in the sort of linoleum you'd see on the floor of a supermarket and was in great need of some TLC with a mop and floor cleaner. She wondered if they had such a thing. She didn't want to end up being the live-in housemaid for two grown adults who couldn't care for their own surroundings. At least there was no litter, and the swing bin didn't look to be overflowing. On the long blank wall to her left, as she faced the rest of the flat, the painted brickwork was interrupted only by a pair of electrical sockets at waist height and, plugged into them by a long wire, an upright fridge with the dried remains of a basket of fruit on top. She took the three paces to the fridge and opened it. It was cleaner than she expected, and held a number of jars of condiments and, in a slot in the door, what she hoped was a still-fresh two-litre bottle of milk. Two of the shelves were as empty as a Western Saloon at High Noon and the crisper drawer was crammed with tins of Beamish Stout. She was not a great drinker, but it looked as if Paul was.

 Talking of whom, he was walking down the row of fitted cupboards opening several and pointing out plates, cups, pans and other kitchen equipment. "Help yourself to anything you need to use," he said. "Except for this mug." He held up an ugly, terracotta vessel that looked hand made. "This one is mine and I'd be really upset if it got broken."

"Fair enough." She nodded. "Is there a mug that belongs to Steve? I wouldn't want to upset him, either."

"Not anymore. "Paul grinned and pointed up to the ceiling where a mug was fixed, open mouth down, above the door to the flat."

"Steve and Barry were playing hide and seek."

"In a flat?" Roisin frowned. "I wouldn't have thought there were many places to hide."

"There aren't, which is why they were hiding each other's mugs. Steve still hasn't found his, yet."

"Isn't he going to be annoyed when he does?"

"Not really. He'll think it was funny. Probably." It's not a precious one, anyway. We bought it in a job lot from the charity shop on Prince's Street." He frowned. "I can't remember the name of it now. Something in a red circle on a white background. You could try in there for your bedding and stuff. They do a ‘five items for ten Euros’ deal."

"Worth a look for drop cloths and painting rags, but if I'm going to sleep on something I'd rather know where it came from."

"Valid." he laughed. "Just the living room left to show you, then that's the grand tour finished."

"And the bathroom."

"Right." Paul nodded. "Walk this way."

She wasn't sure what to expect in a bathroom previously share by three blokes, but this certainly wasn't it. A bath with a shower curtain, yes, a toilet, sink and bathroom cabinet, yes, but everything was pristine. Dated, admittedly, but as clean as a hotel bathroom on the first day of a long stay. Cleaner, probably. "Wow."

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