4. A Place of my own
It was a month later that I finally found a place I could, just about, afford. It was basically a single room with a ‘kitchen’ in an alcove and a shower and toilet packed into a space no larger than a closet. The door opened outward, and you had to step round the toilet to stand under the shower. Two problems; I had to pay two months rent in advance as a deposit, and it had no furniture. And I needed to either get my tablet repaired or replace it — another expense I couldn’t afford.
The furniture was the least of my worries. I knew what I would need, and where I could get it cheap, the key deposit was the bigger problem. On the plus side, my Mum contacted me to say she’d gone to live with her widowed sister in the Midlands, and found a much better job there. My Dad had apparently picked a fight with the neighbour and been arrested for affray.
I talked to Gene.
“Okay.” Gene said. “Think you can manage on your own?”
“I reckon.” I’d given it plenty of thought, and really did think I could cope with this. “If I can just get my own place, I can sleep on the floor until I can sort out something better.” Pausing I said, “It’s the six hundred they want as a deposit that’s the problem. I’ve managed to put together four hundred, but that’s it and they won’t consider less, or allow me to pay it up over a couple of months.”
Gene nodded. “What’s the address? Let me take a look at it and see if there’s something I can persuade them on.”
“But you’ve already done more than I can ask, Gene.”
“Balls.” He playfully punched my shoulder and winked. “You’re a good worker, in spite of everything. Besides, we like having you around, so let’s see what we can do to help set you up.”
Reluctantly I gave him the address and got on with my work. Truth is that sleeping in a room used by someone else as his gym was getting to me. Tom was nice enough, but I obviously cramped his style and was underfoot and in his way. I wanted to get out of there … Late in the afternoon Jerry intercepted me as I returned from the post office.
“Gene’s looking for you. Good news I think.”
“That Alex? Get yourself up here, kid. Got something for you.” Gene’s voice called from his ‘office’. As I reached the door, he stood, grinning. “When do you want to move into your flat?”
“My flat? Move? But …” I stammered.
“How about right away?” Gene laughed at my expression and stood. “Come on, chum. We’ll get your stuff from Tom’s and I’ll help you get settled. It’s a bit further out than the one you looked at, but much nicer.”
He wasn’t wrong. The flat he showed me into was a single double height room that had been internally divided and a mezzanine installed. The ‘living room’ front half of the flat was a double height, with a pair of tall windows looking over a rather unkempt ‘park’ across a narrow street. The kitchen was beneath a mezzanine with a bedroom and a bathroom off the bedroom on the mezzanine.
Situated in a converted Victorian ‘town house’, it was on the first floor and had once been a grand 'drawing room' in a large house now divided up into several flats. It was partly furnished with a double bed, built in cupboards, a couple of comfortable armchairs and stools at the breakfast counter between the livingroom and kitchen. In the kitchen there was a small fridge, a freezer and a stove with oven and a microwave. It was almost double the size of the flat I’d found, and the same rent.
Though it was clean, the counters in the kitchen, the built in cupboards and the bathroom were all showing years of wear. The appliances certainly weren’t new either, nor was the bed, though the mattress was. The bathroom was a shower, toilet and wash basin, like the kitchen, showing their age, but clean.
“A mate owns this place, but he’s gone abroad and doesn’t want to sell at present, so I persuaded him he could let you have it at the same rent as the other place.” He grinned. “One condition — No wild parties!”
“But I can’t … I mean, this is fabulous, but — you say its the same rent? The deposit must be higher …”
“Is covered,” he interrupted. “And the rent will cost you seventy-five a week. The heating and ‘leckie is extra. Comes in at about twenty-five a week. So your pay is two hundred a week, and this’ll leave you with around seventy after tax and so on for food and your personal needs.” He grinned. “We can review the situation once you’ve had time to settle.”
Stunned, I looked at the flat again. From my ‘flat hunting’ I knew this place was worth more than I would be paying. Okay, it wasn’t in an upmarket part of the borough, and the area was a bit down at the heel, but still … this place was way more than I’d dreamed of getting.
“I’m not complaining, Boss, but it’s a lot more than I expected.”
“Is it?” His arched eyebrow and smile suggested amusement. “Listen, Alex, the lads have all chipped in to get you started.” He held up a hand. “Some of us have had the same sort of battles to fight as you, so we feel good being able to help you at least skip the worst bits.” Putting an arm across my shoulders, he added, “We wouldn’t if we didn’t think you were able to take it on and make it work for you.”
“Gene … I don’t know what to say.” His arm felt good — better, it made me feel something I hadn’t felt toward or from someone else since I was a kid. “Except ‘thank you’ … and that’s not even enough. I won’t let you guys down.”
“Then let’s put your stuff away, and make the bed up, then we can go and find some supper and maybe a drink.”
It didn’t take long to put my stuff away, and we ate at a cafe in the main street a short walk down to the end of the square. At Gene’s insistence we also visited a mini-market and I bought some essential groceries. I got ‘home’ with the essentials for breakfast and a few meals that would see me sorted until I’d worked out what I needed to stock up for my needs.
“See you in the morning, Alex.” Gene gave me a hug at the door. “Sleep well.”
It felt strange to be alone in this new place. I lay awake in the double bed staring toward the tall curtained window that faced the street across the top half of the living room. Outside the traffic noises filtered through the curtain and the glass, a reassuring sound on this, the first night I’d actually spent entirely on my own, in my own home. I drifted off to sleep still not quite believing my luck.
On impulse, I got up, found my latex tanga and the hood, pulled them on, and admired my reflection in the full length mirror on the wardrobe door. At last I had a place I could indulge my fetish — and no one could say anything about it. Giggling madly, I crawled back into bed, and drifted off to a sleep flavoured by the smell and feel of rubber.
