*
I could never have thought I would set foot in this place again, but finding myself in front of the decaying building where Jemma lived proves me wrong.
I ring the entry phone several times, but then I remember that the circuit is disconnected. Are the Pears at home, I wonder? God knows.
I don’t know if I have good or bad luck on my side, but as soon as I turn my back to the front door of the building, one of its bizarre tenants comes out. I put my foot in the doorway and then, climbing the steps three at a time, I finally arrive in front of Jemma’s parents’ flat.
The landing is saturated by a smell of incense (and something else) and the croaking sound of a record player comes from the inside.
I knock vigorously on the door. “Mr and Mrs Pears? It’s Ashford, Jemma’s husband.”
“I’ll be right there,” shouts a female voice from the inside. God, please, let them be dressed.
“Ashford! What a surprise! My Mayan horoscope hadn’t forecast any visit!” Says my mother-in-law while opening the door, and she’s dressed.
“They forecast the end of the world in 2012, and yet we are still waiting for it. I wouldn’t trust those Mayans,” I say.
“Don’t stay there on the threshold, come in. Take a seat.”
“I’d rather stand.”
“May I offer you a cup ofchai?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“Come on, chai is good for you. It’s soul cleansing.”
I hope that is not a euphemism for ‘laxative’. “Just a sip.”
“Isn’t Jemma with you?”
“No, she was actually quite upset this morning. She told me about a problem that concerns you, and I came to talk about it. Isn’t your husband here?”
“He sure is! He came back from the radio a little while ago. He’s on the roof watering the ficus. I’ll call him.” Then Carly leans out of the window and shouts: “Vaaance! Come down! Ashford’s here!”
Vance comes back down with the watering can still dripping in his hand. “Ashford! It’s so nice to see you again, laddie! Are you staying for lunch?”
“I’m afraid I have business to do later. I came here to talk about an issue that upsets Jemma a lot,” I try to line up my speech but the music almost drowns my words. “AlthoughAll Along The Watchtoweris one of my favourite songs and Jimi Hendrix is an immortal artist, I would be grateful if we could turn the volume down to a background accompaniment.”
Vance nods, lifting the needle from the turntable.
“Thank you. I’ll be brief: this morning, Jemma informed me that the landlord has sold this building, and that the buyer has sent you an eviction notice. As your daughter, she’s really worried about you, and she wants to know what your plans are and how she can help.”
For the first time, the Pears’ mood darkens.
Vance clears his throat, yet his voice is still unsteady.
“Well, we can’t say that it was a surprise, but deep in our hearts we hoped it that it would come to nothing. You often hear rumours that never come true.”
“The rent here was so affordable,” adds my mother-in-law.
“How long until you have to leave the flat?”
“A week.”
“A week? That’s ridiculous!” I protest.
“The contract expired a month ago, but the owner didn’t renew it. He always said he didn’t have any time, and that he would have us sign a new one. Instead, we received the eviction notice. Technically, we have lived here unlawfully for two weeks.”
