Day 207 – The Third Party – Part 2

Word count: 634

“No way!”
“If she is so rich, why does she own this pile of shit?”
“Do you think she knows?”
“Pass us the rum…”

They were all sat around the dining room table, fluorescent lights glaring above, and drinking copious amounts of alcohol. As soon as Kirk had returned home, they had sat him down and informed him of their landlady’s happy news. Everyone was genuinely shocked.

“I can’t believe it…. after all she has put us through the last two years, god suddenly slams that one on her desk as a big fat thank you while the rest of us scrape by to make a living and are all nice-hic-and pleasant,” Kirk was in one of his Marxist moods.

“Too damn right! Think of all the debt we have, all the rent we pay for a leaky roof, rising damp, a bi-polar boiler and a building that is essentially as structurally sound as duplo,” Elaine too was slipping down the slope with Kirk.

“What kind of idiot rents their property out but still keeps it as their main address!” Jo swigged back a shot of green.

“It doesn’t help that Fairways Lettings are a bunch of incompetent chimps. Failways I should say. Heh.” Kirk smelled his whisky before gulping it down.

“You reckon she knows?” Jo said.

“What – knows about the money?”

“Yeah. I mean we do get all her mail here…”

A wicked grin spread across Jo’s face. Kirk reached out for the letter.

“When was it sent, recently right?”

“I suppose so, I just opened it.”

“Oh my god – it was written four months ago!!!”

“What do you mean?”

“September Twenty-Nineth – there!” Kirk pointed on the letter. “The bloody woman doesn’t have a clue!”

“Well she might…”

“She’d have got rid of this place for a start!”

“Maybe she’s too busy swanning around in her limo to realise this ghetto?”
“Then why is she still getting mail delivered here?” Jo stretched her arms across the table, yawning.

“What are we all trying to say anyway?” Elaine knew perfectly well, but didn’t want to be the one to bring it up just in case she was the only one thinking it.

“Oh nothin’, nothin’ it’s all just fun and games, another?” Kirk motioned towards the quarter full bottle of vodka.

“Go on then.”

Elaine had work in the morning but she did not really care at this point. It was just another day her soul would be cut apart, did she really need to perform that function sober? They giggled twenty more minutes by before they all went upstairs to bed.

Elaine lay in her dark room unable to sleep. Outside cars creeped noisily by and her mind was spinning slightly. From a bottle of water by her bed, she kept swigging back sobriety with the hope of avoiding a clashing headache in the morning. With each sip, however, she felt herself more drawn to the drunk idea than to the sensible one.

All that money: going to waste on some dim-wit landlady that could not even figure out how to change her mailing address. What had that letter said anyway, did they say how to claim it, if it was definitely available? Elaine, deciding that she could not rest without seeing the letter for herself, wrapped her dressing gown around her and opened her bedroom door. The stairs were black – Jo and Kirk were evidentially asleep. Stepping lightly down each step, she came to the kitchen and flicked on the light switch.

Two bodies frozen instantly. Jo and Kirk were hunched over the letter. Betrayal could have surfaced at this point, but all Elaine could think of was how to divide twelve million, four hundred and fifty seven thousand, eight hundred and eleven pounds by three.

~ by S.G. Mark on May 1, 2012.

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