After the One by Cass Lester (novels for students .txt) 📗

A mortgage? thought Pam. The notion hadn’t even crossed her mind, and how would she even pay for one, since she didn’t have a job? Unless maybe Geoff could have one, on his pension? She had no idea. They’d paid off their mortgage about five years ago, that much she did know. Suddenly the prospect of having to navigate this potential minefield as well as everything else seemed overwhelming, and frightening.

Since Pam had gone rather quiet, Zee spoke up. ‘Just a very rough ballpark is all we need now,’ she told the agent firmly.

So, perhaps realising he wasn’t going to be able to coerce Pam into booking an appointment there and then, and with a lot of unnecessary reminders that it was ‘very much just a rough estimate’ and ‘not an expert valuation’, and ‘not even an estimate he could stick to until he’d done a proper assessment of the actual property’, he gave them a figure.

It seemed a lot of money, until Pam divided it by two. ‘What sort of property could I get for half of that?’ she asked, wondering if there’d actually be anything at all.

‘Half of that?’ he queried, raising an arch eyebrow and clearly fishing for more information.

‘Yes,’ replied Pam, deliberately not giving him any. It was none of his business. Although she guessed he’d probably already put two and two together, or rather that he’d started with two and divided it, to come to the conclusion that she was divorcing.

‘Just in the Bristol area?’ he clarified.

‘Yes.’

‘There will be quite a few properties,’ he said, perking Pam up considerably. ‘Mostly flats and apartments,’ he finished, instantly deflating her again.

‘No houses?’

‘Some…’ he paused and his eyes flicked from Pam to Zee and back again, and Pam got the distinct impression he was appraising them and making mental assumptions about them as he did so. ‘But they’ll be a long way out of the city.’

‘Well, that’s not necessarily a problem,’ replied Pam.

‘Of course, if you can get a mortgage, that will increase your options greatly,’ he told her.

Pam glanced over to Zee, who merely shrugged back noncommittally. ‘I don’t think I’m in a position to do that,’ she said, partly to stall another attempt by the agent to badger her into letting him make a valuation appointment, but mostly because she didn’t really want to have to confront that alarming territory just yet.

He pulled together a small bundle of brochures illustrating a range of the properties in Pam’s price range and handed them to her. She’d adamantly refused to let the agent make any viewing appointments or to accompany them. ‘We’re just going to look around and get a feel for the areas,’ she told him firmly, as they got up to leave.

‘Don’t worry, we won’t knock on any doors,’ Zee assured him, somewhat witheringly, and the agent had to settle for that. His disappointment was evident.

Popping into the nearest supermarket, they bought a meal-deal each and headed to the Downs to eat them. Sitting on a bench overlooking the Clifton Suspension Bridge they ate crisps and sandwiches, and swigged their drinks out of the bottle like a couple of day trippers.

‘I used to bring the boys up here in the summer holidays,’ said Pam. ‘They loved it, even when they were teenagers. We’d bring a frisbee, or a football or their kites… and just… muck about.’

The days had seemed endless back then. As they’d grown older she’d often wondered, watching them larking around, how their lives would turn out, and what their futures would hold. She was thankful she hadn’t known how very short Josh’s future would turn out to be. It might very well have broken her if she had.

‘Have you told Charley you’re house-hunting?’ asked Zee, bringing Pam back to the present.

‘No. I’m not being evasive, it’s just that I’m not planning to move out of the flat anytime soon, and I don’t want to give her anything else to worry about. She’s got enough on her plate without thinking she’s going to have to look for another lodger in the not-too-distant future.’

Whatever Pam’s ultimate life plan was going to be, she was very aware that her rent was a financial lifeline for Charley just right now, and she wasn’t going to pull that particular rug out from under her.

Over their picnic they planned the most sensible route to take in order to see all the flats and houses which they thought were worth looking at. Or at least the ones Pam said she thought worth were looking at. Zee didn’t voice an opinion on any of properties, which Pam had taken to mean she didn’t hold out much hope that any would be even remotely suitable.

In the end Zee was proved right. Pam tried to be optimistic, they both did, pointing out the positives in each of the properties, and trying to make them outnumber the negatives, but as the afternoon wore on they both became increasingly downhearted. Pam found herself battling to keep her mounting anger towards Geoff under control. Why should she have to give up her house, her home for decades, because of him?

Neither of them could see her living in any of the properties, or even the areas, they looked at. Most were tiny high-rise flats, which might have been triumphs of stylish inner-city living, but they had no gardens, and when they read the details closely, they found the rooms were claustrophobically small. Whilst some of the houses had seemed a little more promising, they were way outside the city, and miles away from all of Pam’s friends. She feared she’d become isolated and lonely, at a time of life when it would be difficult to make new friends and put down new roots.

At the end of what felt like a fruitless afternoon, Zee slung the brochures onto the back seat of the car contemptuously. ‘You can’t possibly live in any of those.’

‘I might have to,’ replied Pam bleakly.

Zee shot her an alarmed look. ‘Why?’

‘Because since