Sorry I couldn’t hang around, something urgent came up. I owe you a proper goodbye kiss x
The smirk on my face doesn’t shift after I’ve reread the message several times and moved onto what the world knows about Pete so far. It’s an arduous route to get there, clicking through headlines on the Glasgow local news site which I entered through a story about buffer zones around abortion clinics on their Facebook page so, should my internet history ever be examined, how I reached Pete’s story will appear organic. His story is there – ‘Concern Grows for Missing Glasgow Man’. His family must really love him to be so worried so soon. If I had been gone for only two days my mother wouldn’t have a clue. How long it would take doesn’t bear considering, but nine months seems closer to when they’d notice. Maybe a full year before the authorities were contacted. I consider ringing the tip line to help them find him quicker but decide against it because that feels like asking to be caught and I do not want to be caught.
The physical and mental toll of the revenge I’ve been wreaking is something I have to work up to, like calling Scottish Power to discuss my direct debit payments. I’m not ready for another one, yet. Still, just because I’m full it can’t hurt to read the menu. I put my laptop on the bed beside me, sweeping my vibrator out of the way. I don’t need to hunt for an episode ofFixer Uppers Go Under the Hammerto watch because I already have a fresh one open on the browser, ready for when the urge would next hit me.
Fixer Uppers Go Under the Hammer
Series 28, episode 28.
First broadcast 19/05/22.
MALCOLM walking down Candleriggs in Glasgow, a cobbled road which has pubs and restaurants on either side of it.
MALCOLM
Now this is an unusual property. The layout is frankly bizarre, but with a little work it could result in bizarrely good profits.
OFF SCREEN: JEMMA begins to feel the toll of the exertion of the last few days. Her attention falters, she gets the gist: a shower has been installed in the kitchen, the fridge and washing machine are inexplicably in the bathroom, and there’s a spiral staircase in the living room that leads to a mezzanine level that should be the second bedroom but has no sound insulation from the room below. The auction is won by PAULA, her belly swollen in late pregnancy.
MALCOLM
Paula, this will be a great flat in a fantastic area, with a little love. What’s the plan? Is this for you and baby to live in it once they arrive?
PAULA
(Rubbing her belly.) Oh no. You’re right, this would be a wonderful home but not for us. We’ll be renting this out as soon as it’s ready.
OFF SCREEN: JEMMA thinksHow could you, Paula?Somehow it is worse to be disappointed by a woman who speaks in an accent not too dissimilar to her own. Disappointing, too, that she can do nothing to stop Paula with her being a woman and therefore out of bounds due to the rules.
MALCOLM
Is this your first foray into renovation and property management?
PAULA
No. Because my income fluctuates quite a bit as I’m a freelance makeup artist, I’ve already invested in a holiday home on Skye to give me a regular income. The plan is for this to also be a short-term let for people visiting the city. It’s a prime location.
OFF SCREEN: JEMMA considers if having a fluctuating income is a reason to take a house and rent it out to tourists rather than people who live and work in a place. She then decides she’s had enough for tonight and shuts the flap of her laptop down.
28
Afew days later, Brian chucks me the keys to the company car so I can do an end-of-lease inspection in Rutherglen and he can get his hole. On the form, I have to update how the condition of everything is today compared to how the people found it when they moved in. This is insane. The couple leaving have lived in the flat for five years so nothing is pristine, but then I bet it wasn’t when they moved in either, no matter who wrote ‘brand new’ to describe the condition of the walls. I fill it all in to say nothing is damaged as quickly as I can, then take a few pictures on Brian’s phone to prove this is a fine condition to leave a home in, but also, for Leanne’s sake, to show he is here. I keep my ballet pump in the edge of frame in case she properly looks at the image, giving her a little bit of evidence to point her in the right direction. The flat is clean, definitely cleaner than any place I’ve ever moved into. With all this space to myself, I fulfil Dave’s latest request for a video of me walking barefoot across a wooden floor and send it over, awaiting the £50 payment, which will go towards topping up the inheritance of Colin’s next of kin come the end of the month.
When I left the office to come here, I made out like I was going to do a very thorough job and then I’d take my lunch after to ‘run some errands’ while I had the car. My hands quiver as I start the Range Rover because the errand I am running is one I should not be going on.
Very badly, I want to show Paula Homerton the error of her ways. There are rules, of course, and this is a test of them, taking direction from my moral compass, checking if it needs to be recalibrated when it comes to female landlords. Which is why I am in Bothwell. I know this is where Paula lives because she’s the only Paula Homerton in Scotland, making her exceptionally easy to find. It took mere seconds on Brian’s phone as I sat in a vacant shop in Motherwell yesterday. Silly, silly Paula. I was so disappointed in her I shook my head in the cold, dingy ex-grocers. Paula, you were on television. You should know people might have a nosey, see what the baby in your belly ended up being. FYI, she had a girl named Natasha. This sensitive information is quickly accessible on her Facebook because her privacy controls are not strong enough. A lesson for us all on internet safety.
And don’t get me started on her Instagram, which is where I found out that on Thursday lunchtimes she takes her daughter and her dog for a walk to get a cake or cookie from the local bakery. Paula then proceeds to take a picture of her and Natasha eating it at home with witty reviews of that week’s treat in the caption. Natasha is only three, but Paula claims she is capable of giving feedback on a doughnut such as ‘This is more squishy and delicious than daddy’s butt’, and on an empire biscuit: ‘Empire is bad, Mummy. There should be no empire.’ Maybe, just maybe, Natasha is capable of these witticisms, or more likely, Paula is a deeply lonely person who seeks validation from people online through fabricated stories about her child who is no more exceptional than any other three-year-old, which is fine.
There are few pictures of her husband, Natasha’s father, on her feed. He appears to be away a lot on film shoots for work.
TV widow again this week and look what this wee monkey is up to hahahaha!
She wrote this on Monday, alongside a picture of Natasha on the kitchen floor surrounded by flour she had dropped all over the marble tiles and smeared various tracks into with her fingers. The husband would be an ideal target if only he were involved in Paula’s business, but he seems to have nothing to do with it. Everything is solely in Paula’s name. Based on the information I have, I can’t go after him or I’d have to punish myself, someone who also tangentially profiteers off it all.
The bakery would have been an excellent location for spying except there was no seating area for me to wait in. Which is what led to me purchasing and now eating a sausage roll direct from the paper bag, trying to keep pastry crumbs in the car to a minimum, while watching Paula’s house, looking for signs of life. She lives on a road that is a dead end. Her house is the very last one in the row and beside it is a turning circle so cars can escape – that’s where I’m parked. This is not an inconvenience that will draw anyone’s attention, as no one is here. In fact, I’ve not seen another soul since I arrived. It’s starting to creep me out to the extent that, if I were not here for an important purpose, I’d have left already. Licking a fleck of pastry from my lips, I focus on that purpose and try to formulate a suitable punishment for Paula that does not involve me getting my hands dirty. Nothing comes to mind.
Instead I chew, thinking that the sausage roll is pretty tasty. If I were pathetic enough to review my meals online I’d say it was delicately spiced. Marks would be lost because it’s not hot enough. I’ve had to pop the heating on in the car to warm me while I listen to the latest episode ofThe Property Pros. Now I’ve done some digging on Malcolm, a man I already found fascinating, he has a new layer of intrigue. It appears Malcolm does not actually have his own property portfolio, at least not one he discusses in public or has any obvious affiliations to online or through tax records. This has, in turn, made me even more convinced that he and I are kindred spirits, making our money out of this racket because of necessity, both of us understanding how deplorable it would be to actually commit to being a landlord.
