Unedited 💓
Tilly
I stir my soup with the gold spoon and wonder what universe I woke up in. Levi sits next to me on his bed, freshly showered and dressed for work this afternoon. While I still reek of the night before, and some. I don't dare look in the mirror because I know I'll hate what I see, so I'm playing dumb to it all, letting Levi suffer through my state.
"Soup okay?" Levi asks, munching on his baguette filled with cooked salmon and what looks like cream cheese.
I blow onto the spoon, shoving it into my mouth a moment later. "Yes, thanks. Leek and potato's my favourite."
"Good guess from me then," he laughs, standing up to brush the crumbs from his trouser leg.
"Yeah," I wait a beat. "Levi?"
He looks up from the floor, giving me an encouraging smile. "Hmm?"
I put my spoon down having lost my appetite. "I don't dare face your family. I bet they're all downstairs aren't they?"
"No, they're all at work apart from Laine who's playing with George in the gardens," he gives me a small smirk, "why are you dreading it?"
"Yes. Can you slip me out your window or something? I'll climb down the drainpipes," I respond, not even kidding.
Levi seems to think I am though when he tips his head backwards and laughs, "I'd pay to see you attempt to even try. Tillly, you can't even carry plates through to the kitchen without dropping them."
I cover my face with my hands. "I know, you don't have to remind me."
"You'd probably die," Levi agrees, nodding his head.
Someone's feeling morbid. "Nice. At least I'd go with the memory of a few hours sleep on a comfy bed," I point towards the duvet, "is it made of marshmallows and clouds?"
"Memory foam," he corrects.
I put my dishes on the side, feeling satisfied, starting to pull off the covers. "I could stay here forever."
"Then do," he says, walking over to his wardrobe to pull out a suit jacket. "I'll come get you on the way to the shelter."
"No," I push the duvet away, not wanting to overstep my mark. "Thanks, but I best get home."
"Laine won't bother you. She's got college work, and George is going to the park with mama," he says, shrugging into a light grey suit jacket," he pulls on a pair of socks, "or, you can drive around with me sorting out peoples rent?"
"Rent? For what?"
"Houses, shops, restaurants. My dad owns and rents out a lot of property here and further south."
I bet he earns a pound or two. They say property is the job to be in if you've got the cash. It seems a shame that there's so many vulnerable people out on the streets when people make hundreds of thousands of pounds each year.
"And you go around collecting rent?"
He shakes his head. "Not usually. The agent does it, but she's on holiday and couldn't get anyone to cover."
I find my denim jacket hanging over the chair next to his desk and fight to get my arm through the hole. "You go up to people's doors asking for rent money?"
"Oh no," he shakes his head. "It's all done electronically. I'm going to visit the people who're struggling to find the cash to come up with an easier pay plan for them."
I know what it's like to dread every knock on the door, your bank balance in the pennies as you scour every shop on the high street, begging for work. It's scary, knowing your bum could be on cold concrete again, vultures walking the path your sat on, ready to attack.
"I don't know many landlords who'd do that for people," I find myself smiling bigger than I have for a while.
Levi copies me, the grey in his eyes lighting up. "It's my dad. He can't stand to see anyone struggling. We once had an old lady living on her own in one of the bungalows we own in Bradford, who couldn't afford her rent. Dad stopped the charges so all she had to pay for was her utilities and food."
I close my mouth when it falls open, feeling petty for judging his dad in the first place. "Wow...that's just...wow."
Levi laughs. "That's only a part of his kindness. When he and mama started dating, her family didn't have much money. They're childhood sweethearts, who have been together for over thirty years. When my dad was eighteen, he got a job on the docks, wanting to get into the fishing industry. It paid well, and was helping to fund his savings towards a house.
"One day, he turned up at my Oma and papa's house unannounced, wanting to surprise mama for her birthday. Only to find the law enforcement agents threatening to take their stuff away as payment for the mountain of debt my grandparents were in. It was brutal as Oma sobbed for them to stop taking their hard-earned things, begging them for more time.
"So, dad only saw one way to help. Give them his three-years worth of savings he was going to use as a deposit on a house he'd already said he wanted."
I stare in quiet awe. "Your dad's a saint."
Levi nods like he already knew. "It's sweet because after he'd paid off the debt, he took mama to the harbour and asked if she'd marry him."
"Did he?" I say, fisting my top near my throat. Romance does happen.
"Yeah, they didn't marry right away as no one had the cash for it. Which I think made their wedding day even more special a few years later."
"It sounds like a movie," I laugh, startling when the door opens and an older woman comes inside.
"I thought I hear voices," she says, blonde hair tied up into a ponytail without a scrap of makeup on, she looks flawless.
"What are you doing home?" Levi says, giving her a sweet smile.
She beams back. "I forgot my lunch," she glances at me, and then back to Levi. "I'll leave you to it."
Did she just wink at him?
Levi shakes his head. "There's left over salmon in the fridge to make a sandwich."
"I'm not eating bread," she says, patting her belly. "I'm putting weight on."
"Mama, behave," he says, playfully frowning.
I don't see an inch of fat on her body, lean muscles appearing under the blouse she's wearing. It looks like she cares for her body. The edges of her cheekbones gleaming with health.
"Carbs don't agree with me," she gives me a tiny wave. "Nice to see you. I'll be in the kitchen."
"I'm Tilly," I shout without meaning to do, lost on what to say next.
"I'm Selma, but everyone calls me Mama," and then she leaves, turning back a few times to watch us with a look I don't recognise.
Levi
"Here, have another biscuit. You're much too thin," Rosemary, one of our tenants says, forcing a Rich Tea into my palm.
I don't argue, taking a big bite. "When was the last time you switched your heating on, Rose? It's freezing in here."
Rosemary sips on her steaming mug of tea, looking anywhere but me. "I don't remember."
I'm not daft, I'm aware that she hasn't had any heating on this winter, but I'm not going to patronise her. Rosemary takes pride in her life, and knowing that people know about her difficult circumstances would upset her.
I reach over to grab her hand and it's ice cold. "Come on, sweetheart. Tell me the truth."
"I can't afford it," she says, widening her eyes. "Bills are on top of me."
I nod, pulling out my paperwork. "You should have called us. I don't like the thought of you cold inside your home."
It's so cold my nipples are tenting my button down.
Rosemary waves her hand. "Oh, I don't want to be any bother."
"We need to know these things otherwise we can't fix it," I respond, staring at her padded coat, feeling sick that I'm fortunate enough to rest in a warm space, while a frail old lady has to layer up jumpers and coats.
It's crazy what shit you take for granted.
I put one of the eco plans in front of her, pointing to the price I think will be best.
"We can lower your monthly rent by fifty-five percent. Does that sound good to you?"
"Yes," she nods, bottom lip trembling. "Yes, please, Levi."
My arm finds itself around her shoulders. "I'm going to sort it. Don't worry about a thing, okay?"
"I can't tell you how many sleepless nights I've had because of the cold and worry."
I cuddle her. "No more. You're going to be comfortable now. Do you want me to switch your heating on to get the house warming up?" I bet it takes days to feel any warmth.
Rosemary smiles up at me, the wrinkles around her eyes splitting all over. "Yes, let's do it. I can get a bath now too! No more washing with cold water and a cloth."
I close my eyes when I switch on the boiler, angry that it's come to this point. "You'll be able to use that bubble bath your daughter bought for you from Chanel."
"Oh, no, that's only for special occasions."
I turn back to find her dunking a biscuit into mug. "I'd call this a special occasion. Go on, get all bubbled up. You deserve it."
"You're right," she laughs, seeming genuinely happy. "I didn't get the chance to open it. I might use half a bottle."
"You don't want your daughter telling you off for not using it," I respond.
Rosemary shakes her head. "I'm afraid that I don't see my daughter a lot. Our family is torn apart."
I don't get the chance to ask her any more questions before she stands up and limps her way towards the bathroom, asking if I'll change the light bulb in her bedroom while I'm here.
The light bulb is buried under tons of tea towels in the kitchen drawers when I eventually find it, having searched four more before that one. I step into Rosemary's bedroom, seeing her single bed neatly made with a flower pattern blanket hanging over the edges and a few knitted cushions next to the pillows.
I lift my heels off the ground to take the old, black bulb out of the light socket, replacing it with the new shiny bulb, checking it works by switching it on and off at the wall. It seems to be working fine, so I slide the blown bulb into the box, ready to throw it into the bin when a picture frame catches my eye. A younger Tilly posing in the middle of it, a bright smile drawing across her face as she holds a small dog in her arms.
I step closer to the bedside cabinet where the photograph sits, picking up the worn gold frame. Why would Rosemary have a picture of Tilly? I wonder if they're related, or friends? It's strange, because Rosemary hasn't mentioned her to me, and I've known the old woman for years.
"What are you doing?"
I slam the frame back down and turn to see Rosemary standing in the doorway. "Nothing, I saw this picture. Do you know Tilly?"
A pain I never want to feel flashes in her features before she hisses, "Get out."
"Sorry?" I respond, not registering.
Rosemary shouts over the sound of running bath water. "I said, get out! Now!"
I lift my hands in the air, telling her that I mean no harm. "Rosemary, look, I didn't mean to upset you."
"Poison," she says, a vein popping in her forehead. "Poison is what she is. Now get out of my house."
I don't waste any time, walking out of the place, my brain buzzing, totally confused as to what went on back there.
...
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