Ruby by Heather Burnside (carter reed txt) 📗

*

The following day Trina got up earlier than usual, eager to visit the flat before going off to work. As soon as she was ready, she jumped in a taxi and gave the driver the address. Although it was only five minutes away, Trina wasn’t familiar with the area.

When she arrived, she got out of the cab and looked at the row of shops where the flat was situated. There was a bookmaker, off-license, hairdressers, two fast food outlets, and a newsagent on the corner. Although it wasn’t yet evening, a small group of youngsters were already gathered outside the newsagents and they eyed her suspiciously as she looked up and down the row for the door number that was written on the small piece of paper she clutched.

Trina was relieved to find the number on a door next to the hairdressers. Before knocking, she looked up at the building. It was constructed from red brick and looked old, with a dormer window on the roof above each shop. The window frame above the hairdressers was painted white and she could see even from here that the paint was cracked and peeling. There was also a green patch of mould running from the gutter down to the sign above the hairdresser’s shop, which spelt out ‘Kuts Above’ in large, faded red lettering.

Trina knocked on the door and was greeted by an estate agent. He was a young man with an effortless charm and an ingratiating smile, and Trina felt that his pleasant demeanour was perhaps overcompensating for something. She nodded politely and managed a faint smile but once inside the flat Trina understood what that something was.

The state of the exterior had acted as a precursor to the interior, which didn’t get any better. Straightaway Trina noticed a musty smell as she followed the estate agent into the property, and it was far worse than the slightly musty odour she had detected the first time she visited Shelley’s flat. She looked down the hallway, noticing that it was painted an insipid shade of pale blue with an old carpet that was bunched in parts and frayed in others.

In the living room somebody had made an attempt at brightness through the flowery curtains and papered walls. Unfortunately, that had been some time ago. The curtains were mustard coloured with sage-green leaves on the flowers and the paper wasn’t just peeling; it actually had a hole which ran through to the plaster. On the floor beneath the hole Trina could see a tiny pile where the plaster had dropped onto the bare floorboards.

The state of the kitchen was just as Trina had anticipated; cupboards hanging at different levels with a hinge missing from one of them. In one corner was a stainless-steel sink unit, which was tarnished, and stained with what looked like paint. Trina couldn’t think why as the flat didn’t look as if it had been painted for decades. And the floor was covered in dusty, faded lino.

While he led her around the drab flat, the estate agent chatted away about its potential, and its proximity to bus routes and shopping facilities. Trina zoned out; her interest was already waning. Then he mentioned the bills, which were to be paid in addition to the rent. In her naivety Trina hadn’t realised that the bills would have to be charged separately and with this revelation she quickly made up her mind.

‘I don’t want it,’ she said abruptly.

‘But you haven’t seen the bedroom and bathroom yet,’ said the estate agent. ‘The bedroom’s a good size.’

‘I’ve seen enough, thanks, and I don’t want it.’

The estate agent looked put-out, his smile now replaced with a grimace. ‘Fair enough but I think you’re making a huge mistake. You don’t see many rental properties coming on the market at this price and it does have a lot of potential. You just need to see beyond the outdated décor.’

Trina was becoming irritated by the man’s persistence. ‘I said I don’t want it. It needs too much work.’

She turned away from him and made her way along the hall and down the stairs, leaving the estate agent babbling away about the flat’s supposed merits. Trina was disappointed and she couldn’t wait to get away from the place. She had got her hopes up, anticipating that the flat would provide an escape from the tense situation with Shelley. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t to be and Trina went to work that evening worried about her future living arrangements.

*

It was in the early hours of the morning when Trina returned home from work. As soon as she walked inside the flat, she knew something wasn’t right. It was eerily quiet and the living room door had been left ajar as well as some of the other doors. But instead of hearing sound coming from the rooms, there was nothing. Perhaps Shelley was already in bed, she thought, but as she walked into the hall her footsteps seemed to echo.

Trina pushed open the living room door and was shocked at what she saw. Her breath caught in her throat and she instinctively covered her mouth with her hand. The room was practically bare. All the high-end furniture and electrical equipment had gone, including the TV. The only furniture that remained was the two battered old armchairs. Even the new cushions and television stand Trina had bought were missing.

Around the room were scattered letters with empty envelopes lying close by. It looked as if someone had been pulling them out of the envelopes then discarding any that didn’t seem important. A bunch of newspapers and magazines, previously stacked at the side of the TV, were also scattered all over the floor.

Trina stepped further inside, taking in the state of the place. It felt hollow, the sound of her movements reverberating off the walls. But the heating was still on and the warmth felt at odds with the starkness of the