The Eleventh Hour

Chapter 1

“Oh, shoot.”

          I stood with my hands on my hips, looking down at my car keys which had made their way out of my hands for the third time in the last minute. I continued to stare at them a little longer, silently praying for this day to run smoothly; it hadn’t got off to a good start.

          For one, I’m late. Terribly late. Therefore, late and in trouble. I picked my keys up with a sigh and opened the front door.

          And two, I wasn’t even supposed to be working today, but I got called in last minute as someone had chosen today of all days to call in sick. I think I was coming down with something myself, and yesterday’s late night hasn’t helped at all.

          This was one of those days I wished I didn’t live so high up in a swanky building made up of swanky apartments – I wasn’t used to this.

          My best friend Olive came from a rich, successful family and they’d bought us a studio apartment as a present going in to our third and final year of university. An apartment! Even though we’d lived here for pushing up to a year now, it still felt a little surreal. It was home though.

          I huffed in a deep breath as I started towards the elevator, thankful it was close to our door, and thankful the top floor had a different elevator to the rest of the building. As there were only two apartments on this floor, it meant a much more probable quick getaway.

          I pressed the button to the car park and tapped my foot as I waited in the silent area. I looked out of the floor length glass window to my left which threatened to dampen my spirits a little more – it was raining heavily outside. It was the 14th May, surely the constant April showers should have stopped by now?! Of course not, this is England.

          The familiar ping of the elevator doors opening snapped me out of my gloomy daydream and I was confronted with Edna our cleaner. She stood in the middle of the elevator holding the vacuum and cleaning trolley with a sour look on her face. There was nothing new there.

She was an elderly woman with short silver hair, thick rimmed glasses which comically magnified her eyes and she was very slight and petite – about 4’10 – but she had one hell of a gob on her. She wasn’t the kind of person to be faced with when you’re running late on a dull, rainy Monday morning. Despite her size and age – she was scary.

I smiled politely but held my breath, waiting for the onslaught. Edna wasn’t a polite greeting sort of woman; she normally got straight to the point. And there was always something that had pissed her off.

“Lovely weather isn’t it?” She said in her usual monotone, raspy voice.

I blinked. That was unexpected. She normally flew in complaining about the people who lived here, not the weather. She must have had a nice weekend.

“Hi Edna.” I smiled politely again as I stepped to the side to give her room to get out. It’s best to just stay out of her way, she’s not a typical old lady who appreciates help in any way; she’d carry the cleaning trolley on her back if it was in the job description. She was fierce, you knew better not to argue with her.

“I’m starting at the top and working my way down today.” She said matter-of-factly. I blinked again as she struggled out of the elevator. My fingers twitched as I thought about helping her, but thought better of it. She was in a considerably better mood than she normally is, better not push it.

“Oh?” I asked, just to be polite.

“So when I get down to the fourth floor, the little cockroaches will be awake.”