Page 12 of Full Service

He snorted. “No way. You’ll just make it worse.” I took a step back from him so I could perch myself on one wall of tyres surrounding the yard. He was such a gruff man with a permanent scowl that it was interesting to watch him buff the paint on the bike. As he worked his scowl became less pronounced and his eyes glazed over. It was like he had forgotten I was there and dropped his performance. Or maybe he was always so moody and fixing up the bike was just a temporary reprieve.

“How much rent are you paying for this place?” I asked.

The scowl returned to Macsen’s face as he looked back up at me. “Too much.”

“Who’s the landlord?”

“Dunno. Some agency. Alun handles all that right now. This place isn’t officially mine yet.” Macsen took a step back from the bike as if appraising his own work.

“You really love your line of work, don’t you?” I asked.

Macsen’s scowl softened slightly, and he hesitated before replying. “Yeah. I really do. Does this look alright to you?”

“Looks like a bike,” I joked. The scowl returned. “Honestly, it looks great. I just wouldn’t know the difference between a Harley Davidson and a kid’s electric scooter.”

“This one’s a beauty,” Macsen said. I could see his enthusiasm build as he forgot his scowl again. “She wasn’t as revolutionary as the 1932 model but she’s refined. Increased performance, engine longevity…it’s no wonder she’s survived almost ninety years with a little bit of TLC. I’ve done a full service on her today, replaced the oil, fixed the…”

He was interrupted by the sound of an engine and tyres on gravel. A big black Land Rover pulled into the yard with a bike rack on the back of it. An older man got out in a suit not unlike the one I was wearing and wolf whistled when he saw the bike. Macsen helped him lift it on to the rack and secure it.

“Once again young man, you’ve outdone yourself. She looks wonderful,” the man said.

“Anytime.” Macsen was smiling at the man.

“And what’ll it be today?” The man pulled out his wallet and started sheafing through notes. I had no idea people even still paid with cash.

“A hundred for the service, the cleaning is on the house.” Macsen held his hand out for the money and took it. The man got back in the car and left pretty quickly. Macsen stuffed the money in his pocket before turning to me, returning the scowl to his face. “What are you doing here anyway?” he asked. “I thought you were staying with Prentis?”

“Well…” I shrugged. “No room at the inn. Any inn, in fact.”

“And that’s my problem how?” Macsen walked over to the garage door and pressed the button to close it.

I waited til the noisy shutters had finished closing before I answered him. “Thing is, I need a place to stay.”

“Well I’m not running an AirBnB,” he replied. Without waiting for an answer he opened the door to the flat and walked through. Once again I found myself running to catch up with him. I followed him up the stairs into the accommodation.

“I was just wondering if I could stay here. On your sofa. Just until there’s a place for me to stay.”

“No. No way.” Macsen looked right through me. “This is my space. I’m not having you come in here and intrude on my privacy. I’m quite happy by myself.”

“I can make it worth your while,” I said. Macsen had taken a beer from the fridge without offering me one and slumped on the sofa in his overalls.

“What kind of porno plot is that? ‘I can make it worth your while’? You think you can get down on your knees and blow me for a place to stay?” Macsen’s lips curled upward into a snarl but as he took a big swig of the beer I was trying to stop myself imagining the scenario he had just described.

I shook myself. I wasn’t sure if I was more horny or pissed off. They weren’t often emotions I felt in tandem with one another. Well, until I’d caught Brian. “No. Gross. I’m your landlord, idiot. I will trade you letting me stay here for one month’s rent. And as long as you take to fix my car, I’ll take that much extra rent off the bill too. Does that sound like a deal?”

“You’re my landlord?” Macsen’s expression darkened. “Explains why the rates are so fucking sky high. But if you want to pay me that much money to sleep on my sofa, be my fucking guest. But don’t think I’ll be pussyfooting around you. This is my home. If I want to bring someone back for the night, you’regoing to have to lay there on the sofa and listen. If I want friends round, you can make yourself scarce. If you want a beer, then you can buy your own fucking beer.”

“Good. That’s fine. Settled then.” I didn’t really have much of a choice.

I could tell Macsen hadn’t thought I’d take him up on the offer. “Fine, good,” he said. Although it can’t have been any later than 4pm, he got up from the sofa and headed towards his bedroom with beer bottle in hand. “Goodnight.”

The door slammed behind him, and that was that. I stripped down and got my pyjamas on, then plugged in my laptop to get to work. The sooner I could appraise and sell my property portfolio and he could get my car fixed, the better. Because the sooner I could stop living like a student and get back to London, the better.

Chapter Four

Macsen

3rdDecember

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