Bristling, she moved the letters to the radiator shelf. She wasslender herself, but was conscious of how much less glamorous she was compared to the other woman. Fire would not squat for anyone.
‘Communal areas always give buyers a bad first impression,’ said Kim, ‘because they can seem impersonal. But at least this one is tidy.’ Then she thought,Maybe I’ll kill this sale. I don’t want to deal with these people.So she added, ‘Well, I thought it was going to be tidier than this. Disappointing, really.’
The trio climbed the stairs. The carpet was a pastel green – Kim would call it thick pistachio – and the paint on the walls was an off-white emulsion which must have been refreshed recently because there were no scratches or other marks.
‘No lift?’ asked Tank.
‘You don’t need a lift. You’re not an old man,’ said Ruhi, ascending the stairs as if she was made of air.
Tank laughed coarsely in Kim’s direction. ‘I have already proved that to her in so many ways.’ Why did he need to constantly signal that they were having perpetual sex?
‘Nearly there,’ said Kim on the fourth. A white banister led the way. But suddenly a stranger blocked them.
The woman’s white hair was bunched at the top of her head and slightly wet, as if she had sprung from the bath to confront them. She wore a felt-green dress with a matching belt which pinched at a frame that suggested skin and bone. Her eyes were black and shone like drops of crude oil.
‘Visiting, you three?’ she asked keenly.
‘Hopefully buying,’ said Tank crassly.
‘I chair the residents’ association, and usually we would expect the courtesy of advance—’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Kim broke in. ‘I’m the agent. I haven’t shown anything in this block before. I didn’t know—’
The other woman had not finished. ‘My name is Beryl Woodward. As I say, Residents’ Association Chairman.’ The very last syllable was stressed.
Tank pushed his hand out. He was reaching for a handshake, but the motion was aggressive. ‘We may not buy! Depends on ’ow you treat us, so watch out!’
‘And will it be a second home?’ asked Ms Woodward stiffly, still not shifting.
‘No, gawd!’ cried Tank. ‘Course not!’
‘You’re very young to be moving down here from … London, is it?’
‘She works for me,’ he said for the second time. ‘We made a lot of money in investments,’ said Tank. ‘I meana lot.’
‘It’s a lovely spot to retire to,’ said Beryl Woodward, tempting Tank to say that wasn’t what they were doing. Her eyes narrowed. Kim was starting to like her.Go on, she thought,one more question and you can frighten them off.But the wise old lady just offered half a smile, stepped backwards and let them pass. ‘Another two floors, and then I think you might like the view.’
Kim kicked herself as the trio continued their journey up the stairs. ‘Chairman, Chairman, Chairman,’ Tank chanted. All she would have had to say to Beryl was ‘second home’, and the Residents’ Association would have picketed the apartment and probably organized a sit-in rather than let it go to these two. She was fully on Beryl’s side. She did not want Tank and Fire to buy the place either – to see this cherished piece of real estate become a ‘shag cabin’ – but something stopped her from torpedoing her own business.
The top floor was split in half, giving the entire space over to just two apartments. Here the landing carpet was shagpile white and their feet sank into it. Kim fidgeted for a second and then took the bankers left towards a door markedLarksmoor South.
The empty space was huge. The main room had a kitchenette in the corner, generous space for dining and seating and high rafters. Sun drenched every inch of the interior. The floor was pock-marked timber, weathered just right. Kim moved acrossthe space to pull the blinds but could not find the controls. Her eyes would not adjust to this much sunlight. She could barely see Tank and Ruhi, who had stayed in shade near the entrance.
The windows stretched all the way along one side, and the corner gave a view of the Clock Café and Jacob’s Ladder, which led down to the beach. Kim gasped at the light and the view – the windows were floor to ceiling, nine feet tall – and rummaged blindly for her sunglasses.
As she searched her handbag, she heard Tank’s voice.
‘We’ll take it.’
‘Wait,’ said Ruhi.
Where were those damned glasses?She couldn’t see. The light made her sneeze. ‘Don’t you want to make an offer first, just to—’
‘A million is our offer.’ That was Tank.
‘Wait,’ said Ruhi again.
‘I’m afraid there’s so much light in here, I’m having trouble seeing,’ said Kim. ‘I’m just going to … I’m sorry, I …’
