Georgie sat back on her heels. Tilting her head to one side and making a sucking sound through her teeth, she assessed the remaining contents of her suitcase. Biodegradable floss, that goes in the bathroom. Headphones, she could put that in a draw somewhere. Single florescent blue trainer......that was trickier. Shrugging, Georgie put the shoe on her desk and filled it with an assortment of pens, pencils and highlighters. It was an old shoe so no bad luck would be brought upon her for putting it on the furniture.
That was it. Georgie had unpacked everything. She was now officially a university student.....and boy was she tired. Her parents had taken her out for a late lunch at a local pub and then they had wondered round the city, picking up a slice of cake for pudding. This had resulted in Georgie's waist band becoming a little tighter than she deemed comfortable and her eyes beginning to feel heavy with sleep even though evening had barely descended.
Getting back to her accommodation at the, quite frankly, lovely Persephone's Grove, Georgie had gone straight to her room to unpack. Now, she was finished. Her clothes were all folded and put away in the bespoke wardrobe and chest of draws and her cuddly unicorn had been lovingly placed on her already made, four poster bed.
Looking around her room, the cream-coloured walls, varnished floorboards, thick rugs and perfectly set window seat Georgie could see nothing else to do. With everything done and her waist band feeling looser, Georgie was beginning to feel settled. Everything was perfect.
"But what's the catch", she caught herself thinking.
"No Georgie. You can't think like that or you'll never be happy. You lucked out that's all."
Georgie stood still. She did not usually talk to herself. Was this a new thing? Shaking her head to clear her head from thoughts of impending madness, Georgie told herself to listen to the wise words she had spoken just moments before.
It had been most out of character for Georgie to leave selecting her accommodation for university to the last minute. It had just slipped her mind. One moment it was September, the first month of her gap year, the next and it was late August the following year and she had nowhere to live. Georgie knew she could have ended up in an under furnished flat with only one working hob and a laughable excuse for a plumbing system but there she was in a spacious, light filled room in a house seemingly straight out of a novel.
And her flat mates did not seem too bad. Georgie had met one of them on her way out to meet her parents. He'd introduced himself as Advik and had seemed to be an all-round decent sort of fellow, though Georgie still held her reservations. Judging by Advik's height, muscle definition clearly seen through his outrageously snug T-shirt, and shorts and knee length sock ensemble, he was some form of athlete. Georgie, proud engineering student she was, never really saw the point in athletes.
Three of the others living in the house, Georgie had yet to meet, but with any luck they would all be lovely and prone to social awkwardness. The less house parties that occurred, the happier Georgie would be. Eloise was a piece of work; Georgie could see that. But one did not go to university expecting everything to smell of roses (Footnote 1)
Georgie smiled to herself as she left her room and travelled downstairs to the kitchen. A heart of gold; something told Georgie that Seb, red face and all, possessed such a thing. Perhaps it was the look they had shared as Eloise knocked on the door, the one which said 'eyup, this one's trouble'.
Georgie stopped as she reached the bottom stair.
'Trouble', she thought to herself, hand still on the banister. That was the word she had been looking for.
Beneath the heady scent of roses and behind the shining bespoke furnishings, there was a definite feeling of trouble. Especially behind the gleaming smile of the man who had opened the door to them, the well-dressed one with the styled goatee and blatant narcissistic disposition.
Georgie shook her head to dispel the thought. She was imagining things....it must be the onion rings, she knew she shouldn't have asked for the big plate.
Walking along the hall, past the living room, drawing room and properly disguised broom cupboard, Georgie made it to the back of the house to the kitchen. Laughter was emanating from the open door and as Georgie crossed the threshold into the bright, cosy room, the cause of it was not made apparent.
"Engineer!", exclaimed a red head, pointing a finger at Georgie.
A waiting silence followed this baffling outburst as Georgie looked around the table. Everyone was looking at her but though she had graduated top of her class and wore the title 'nerd' proudly, Georgie could not for the life of her figure out what was going on.
"Well?", asked a striking boy with white blond hair who looked to be a couple of years older than the rest. Judging by his accent, he was not a native to Britain.
"Well, what?", asked Georgie, looking towards Seb in search of an ounce of sense.
Catching her eye, Seb opened his mouth to respond but the first girl who had spoken cut him off.
"I'm right", she said, smugly.
"About what?", asked Georgie.
"About you", said the girl. "What are you studying?"
"Engineering", said Georgie, beginning to get a grasp on things.
"Bingo", said the red head, turning back to the others. "Honestly, once you start looking you see these things."
"Naturally", said Georgie, deadpan. "Now would someone mind catching me up on what I've missed. I've got a feeling it's important."
"It's this thing Lydia can do", said Seb, gesturing to the red head. "From your clothes she can tell what subject it is you're studying".
"That's fascinating", said Georgie, genuinely intrigued. "How did you know I was an engineer?"
"Easy", said Lydia, shrugging. "You're wearing bootcut jeans therefore more desirous of comfort than style, Doc Martin's which imply you anticipate being on your feet all day but in ox blood not black, again suggesting you wear them for comfort. Nevertheless, from the waist down, you would be classified as 'casually cool' but that description stops at your waist. A woollen aran tank top? Not even mathematicians would wear that. Unlike Mats' here with his sleeked hair and top button up, you are not in finance. You are also not 'geeky' enough for a scientist. Therefore, engineer."
They all waited for Georgie's reaction. With a wardrobe dissection as brutal as that, the response could go either way.
Georgie looked down at her tank top. She liked aron.
"Fair enough", she said with a grin, taking a seat next to Seb who shifted his chair slightly to give her more room.
Not because he wanted to, be because it was the done thing.
"So you've worked out what everyone does?", asked Georgie.
"Yep", said Lydia. "As I said, Mats is doing finance. Eloise is clearly medicine. Seb is doing film studies and obviously I am Old English literature".
"You didn't do me?", said Advik, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair so the front legs came off the ground. "Go on, have a go".
"No need", said Lydia. "Go on Mats, you tell him."
"Sport's sciences", said Mats as everyone else nodded.
Advik's face fell.
"How did you know?", he asked disappointedly.
"Oh, please", said Eloise, rolling her eyes skyward.
"It's the shoes", Georgie said before someone could make Advik feel self-conscious. "They just scream sports science".
"Oh", Advik, said, appeased. "That makes sense."
Georgie patted him on the arm.
"I'm Georgie", by the way, she said, introducing herself to Lydia and Mats".
"We know", said Mats. "Seb told us".
Seb's heart beat quickened. There was no reason for it to, he told himself. Of course he just happened to mention her name, they were all going to live together for the next year. It would have been strange if he had not mentioned it. Seb's palms felt sweaty.
"Good evening, all. Settling in alright?"
A bouncy young man with what could only be described as a haybale of hair, bounded into the kitchen.
"Hi", said Seb. "Are you staying here too? We've been wondering who the seventh person is."
"Yep, said Spike, moving over to the pantry in such a way as can only be described as bustling. "But not as a student. Ha, can you imagine. Though I do think my old ma would be proud of me if I did, go back to education I mean. She always said she thought I could go far if only a studied just a little harder. But you know how it is, you're there in school and all you want to do is play outside with the other.....children in the great underground, I mean outdoors. So, not here as a student. I'm the Gov's PA so I'll be around a lot though. Whenever you need me actually. Don't hesitate to knock on my door. It's the one at the top. I asked the Gov if I could have the turret window you see and he said 'why not', though now I'm wondering if he was being sarcastic or despairing. It's so hard to tell sometimes. You'll find he's like that. Oh, but a great guy, you'll like him."
Spike halted in his monologue, the structure of which would have had Shakespeare rocking back and forth on the ground in wretched misery.
As Spike walked into the sizable pantry, the six students stared after his retreating back, reeling as if hit by a sledgehammer fired out of a composite volcano. It was the longest speech Spike had ever been able to make, the demons he had spent his life with not being a sort inclined to politeness. The universe, let alone a group of young human minds, was not ready for it.
"Here you go then", Spike said.
In his hands was a ceramic oven tray covered in a tea towel. Placing it on the table, Spike whipped off the covering and with a knife he'd had lose in his pocket began to slice up the cake.
"Peach and white chocolate tray bake", he said, plating the slices up and giving them to the students. "I made it this afternoon and it's still a little warm.
"Oh, no thank you", said Georgie as Spike handed her a plate. "I'm absolutely stuffed".
The distraught look that came over the demon's face was enough to change her mind.
"But it does smell incredible so why not."
Spike smiled happily. This life suited him.
'I'm not going to need food for at least a day', thought Georgie pragmatically. 'That's going to save me some money'.
"So, Spike", asked Lydia. "We've been wondering about your boss. He didn't really say anything when we got here. Who is he?"
"Just a man of business", said Spike who had been briefed long and hard on answers to key questions. "One who thought he'd open up his home to students to boost his income."
"But what's his name?", Lydia persisted.....or perhaps not, it was a fair enough question.
"Uhhhhhh". Spike's eyes went wide.
"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear."
All that planning Hades had done, every detail seen to and they had forgotten this. This one tiny, inconsequential question that could lead to major problems.
"Uhhhhhh".
The students were beginning to look at him strangely.
"Come on Spike. Think. Think".
Inspiration hit him.
"Humphry", he said, thinking back to his whistle stop tour through human culture. "Humphry Bogart".
A bit longer today but I hoped you enjoyed it. Can you tell Spike has found his calling in life?
1 - As a matter of fact, the rose and thyme fabric conditioner Hades had insisted on using for the bed covers – despite Spike's reservations that white lily would have been better – ensured that the student house, did indeed smell quite strongly of that fragrant bloom thereby, somewhat ruining the metaphor.