Page 6 of Autumn at the Willow River Guesthouse
‘It will, won’t it? It’s always been about money with you.’
Before Lily could say anything else, Steve had turned and stormed out, the bell over Finchley’s door giving an angry little rattle as the door bumped shut behind him. Lily stared at the door, trying not to cry, then gathered her things together and made to leave, but not before visiting the toilet. After all, she had drunk three large coffees while waiting for Steve, and now that she was stuck with buses while her car was being repaired, she didn’t know when she might get another chance.
Conveniently, it had begun to rain. The hot August afternoon seemed to steam as the rain came down, leaving Lily both wet and sweaty. Halfway to the bus stop, she gave up and just ducked into the nearest pub.
At two in the afternoon, it was almost empty. A couple of suits with their ties loosened were playing pool, while a greybeard in an anorak was sitting at the bar, sipping a pint while watching horse racing on a television hung from the ceiling.
‘What can I get you?’ a woman behind the bar asked.
‘A Manhattan.’
‘A what?’
‘It’s a cocktail.’
The woman smiled. ‘The Ritz is a couple of stops up the Tube. This is a pub, dear. If you tell me what to put in it, I’ll have a decent go, but if you want cherries and fancy umbrellas and all that, you’ll have to nip up to the Tesco Metro.’ She grinned. ‘I’ll hold your stool.’
Lily looked around at the lines of beer taps and spirits. ‘You do have a toilet, don’t you?’ she asked the woman.
‘This is a pub, dear, so yes.’
Lily smiled. ‘In that case, I’ll have a pint.’
4
Eviction
You could take the bumpkin out of the countryside, but not the countryside out of the bumpkin, Lily reasoned, as she half stumbled, half skipped up the road from the bus stop. After a few uneasy moments getting off the bus, she was feeling a little more confident now that she recognised the park just down the street from her flat. The cones and ticker-taped fence surrounding a section of crumbling pavement was still there, as was Old Len, the local tramp, sitting on the bench outside the park. The new sky blue Merc that someone down the street owned was still there, now parked in the same spot where she had always parked. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care.
She had lost a lot of money over the last couple of hours, but regained a little of her enjoyment of life. Gary, the greybeard, had turned out to be an even worse pool player than she, fluffing a final black chance to beat Jim and Phillip, the two account managers skiving off from Lloyds TSB for the afternoon. Thrilled with their victory, Lily had bought the tequilas in but turned down the offer of an early trip to a club, waving them off as they swayed up the street, the lads on either side with Gary in the middle, an arm round the shoulder of each. Feeling a general anger over her life, she had given them all the cash out of her wallet—just over two hundred pounds—then frustratingly realised she needed to find a cashpoint in order to pay for a bus ticket. Deciding instead to be a total rebel, she had decided to jump the bus, before having an abrupt change of heart and offering the driver her watch in lieu of payment.
Lindsay, her downstairs neighbour, was standing outside on the street, her two young boys tucked under her arms. Lily stopped beside her, frowning at the suitcases lined up on the pavement.
‘Alright, you. Looks like you’ve had a fun afternoon,’ Lindsay said, as her two boys, Stan and Rick, chimed in with twin ‘Alrights’.
‘I had the afternoon off,’ Lily said, trying not to slur. ‘What’s going on? Are you off on holiday?’
‘Chance would be a fine thing. Didn’t they call you?’
‘Who?’
‘The council. We’ve been shut down. Waiting for my mum to pick us up. Something about fire regs.’
‘What?’
‘They called me at work.’
Lily pulled out her phone. She had turned it off after meeting Steve, but now she found five missed calls from an unknown number.
‘They were doing some work on the place next door,’ Lindsay said. ‘Found something off, so the geezer from the council said. There he is now, if you want to have a word. I imagine he’ll let you go in and pick up some bits if you need to.’
Lily was fast sobering up. She stared as the door to her building opened and a council worker wearing a white helmet and a bright orange vest came down the front steps.
‘Ah, here’s Mum,’ Lindsay said, as a black Volvo pulled up to the curb. ‘Hopefully it’ll only be a few weeks. We’ll have to have coffee.’
Unable to find the strength to speak, Lily stared dumbly as Lindsay loaded the boys and their cases into the car, then waved as it pulled away. She stood gaping on the curb for another minute until the council worker, who had busied himself rearranging a line of cones across two parking spaces she assumed would be for council vehicles, came wandering over.
‘Are you Miss Markham? Flat Four?’
