Under The Hood

Ch. 10

"Imogen, you're late on your rent again."

I come face to face with Bruce, my landlord, who collars me at the flat door. I'd asked for a few weeks' extension until my first pay cheque. It was a risk because I'm not exactly a trustworthy tenant right now, but I had it all worked out in my head.

The overtime and the six-day work week mean I can afford to pay him more than usual each month to make up for the missed payments. It's not ideal, but it shows him I'm willing to make things right.

He points to the beast of a car now sitting on the street. "You can afford a new car but not pay me on time?"

I swallow, knowing how suspicious it must look. Getting that car today is the worst timing. "That's a company car. I have gotten a steady job, but payday isn't until the twenty-seventh of this month. I know how bad it looks, but is there any way we can change the day of where you take rent out? Please, Bruce?"

The stocky older guy with balding grey hair shakes his head. "Why should I do you any favours? All you've done is cause me headaches. It's not my fault you're living above your means. You ignored my calls again yesterday! I have contacted the estate agent, and we're starting proceedings on evicting you."

My heart sinks. "Oh, gosh, no. Please, Bruce. Can we at least talk about a solution?"

"We are talking, and I don't like what I see. I'm not stupid. Those cars cost a fortune," he responds, not having bought that it's my company car.

My worst nightmare is coming true. I'm going to be out on the streets. There's no way of finding anywhere as cheap as thirteen hundred a month unless I go way outside London or house share, but bad past experiences of living with strangers have scarred me for life. My savings are all used up, so finding a deposit for someplace new isn't going to happen.

I beg, but he's set on his decision, letting me know I can handle things through the estate agency now. My feet carry me to follow him down the small pathway and out of the small garden gate hanging off its hinges.

My twenty-something-year-old neighbour, Emma, watches this all unfold from the garden chair in the front of her house with her kids screaming bloody murder. I'm tripping over myself to chase after him, keeping close to the door of his vintage Alfa Romeo.

"I desperately need this flat. Is there anything I can do? My life is going to drastically change in the next few months, and being homeless will be devastating. It's my own fault, I know, but please? Please reconsider." I hold myself back from blurting that I'm pregnant, totally considering it.

Bruce shakes his head. "No, Imogen. There's no way you can change my mind." Then he rushes to get into his car and physically pushes the lock down.

All I can do is watch him scramble to drive away, treating me as if I'm about to attack. I won't. I'm devastated, panicking and about to ugly cry right here in the street. It's a long while after he leaves that I eventually drag myself back to the flat.

"You being evicted, babes?" Emma shouts across the street, causing everyone within a five-mile radius to look around.

I hold onto the wall, mortified, as her boyfriend steps outside. "No," I lie.

She pushes her white blonde hair off her face, puffing on her e-cigarette. "Hmm."

I'm not about to give her any more information. Emma is a gossip, not someone you can trust with your woes. I smile at Richard, her long-standing partner, and he gives me a sympathetic smile before I head inside.

So, I'll be without a home soon.

No big deal.

I have options... like calling to tell my parents.