Mysterious Neighbour

“I remember the corridor, coz I was gonna put me otter down there and the shower on the left, the handrail was a little bit up and to the left, this is definitely not my room, mine is number free, it says so on the contract. I can’t live in this, it’s too small and there’s no snack bar!”

One black and white canvas shoe crossed over the other as she stood on the landing of the shared accommodation like she was about to ask where the toilet was. Her limp, overheated plum strands couldn’t disguise at least a forty a day habit. The poison had sucked in her aging face, marking its territory with twisted paper-thin lines. Two discoloured teeth remained at the front, pushed forward and overlapping, drying out her lips as she spoke; her tongue kept licking the top lip to keep it from sticking. The black and white patterned dress she was wearing hung loosely across a flat chest and heavily scented skin.

“No, we’re actually in room three, we’ve been here for a year now, there must have been some kind of mistake,” I said, wondering if I had remembered my room number correctly.

“Yeah that’s the one, coz I remember the corridor and I even counted the steps out for me otter,” she said, as she spied my open door and began showing me how she calculated the measurements with her feet, heel to toe, heel to toe. “Yours ‘as a snack bar too don’t it, coz this one don’t and I need a snack bar?”

I said it did, as I could only assume she meant the small fridge we had in a cupboard with a microwave on top.

“When did you see our room?” I asked.

“About a mumf ago…oh I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking slightly when she saw my face working out that people had been in our private space without any prior warning.

“Oh don’t worry, it’s not your fault, it’s the agency’s fault, you weren’t to know, I will be sending them an email and letting them know I’m pissed off.”

“Oh, I won’t get into trouble will I?” she said, still trembling like one of the miniature dogs you see tied up outside a shop, wondering if its owner will ever return.

“No of course not, it’s completely their fault,” I said, trying to make her feel more at ease.

“Coz you know it says room free on the contract and on the envelope, it said room four and I asked ‘em…you know…why does it say room free on the contract and room four on the envelope and you know…I said…didn’t I say to you?” Turning to a man on the landing she had acquired from somewhere, “It’s the corridor that I remember, I measured it out for me otter, so I know it was that room. I’ve come all the way from Essex today and you know, they better not keep me in this room, I can’t stay in this room, have you seen it? I’ve got nine boxes still to come, my friend’s coming tomorrow and well, he was gonna come back today but the traffic at the Dartford tunnel is murder. I’ve only got these clothes that I’m in and all me underwear’s still in Essex.”

Instead of listening to my mysterious neighbour rattle out her next few sentences, all I could think about was the poor otter, who had been relegated to the corridor.