Sod's Law Pt. 01

"'Bye!" I returned as I opened the door for her, and with a pretty little half-wave, she was off down the drive.

I shut the door and leaned against it, letting out a deep sigh. I couldn't work out how I felt. I was conscious of my initial reaction to her as she stood on the step. Those thoughts kept coming back to me: she was very much the girl next door, but there was no doubt, I really wanted her in the house.

I shook myself and went to my room to study a contract ready for work the next day, but I found it hard to concentrate. It came to me and made me smile that since my room was next to the vacant one, she really would be the girl next door.

Would she apply? Have second thoughts? Would the members accept her? She seemed to like me: she smiled at me a lot, but she refused my offer of coffee. Further, she was going to meet 'someone'; a boyfriend perhaps, in which case, she would be a lost cause already.

Before I knew it, I heard the front door open and close and remembered I was supposed to be cooking the evening meal for three of the carnivorous housemates.

I hurried to the kitchen and began to assemble the ingredients for meatballs in tomato sauce with rice and sauteed vegetables. Fortunately I had prepared the meatballs before I left for work that morning, and so I was able to have the meal ready on time when they arrived.

As always, there was plenty of conversation.

"David!" Christian's voice cut into my consciousness, and I realised I had been lost in thoughts of Helen, and how very french she looked in her three-quarter coat and beret.

"Er, Yes?" I stuttered, embarrassed.

"Any more meatballs in that pan?"

I ladled a few onto Christian's plate, and added a dollop of the tomato sauce they were bathed in.

Christian Johnson, twenty-five, had been in residence for one year. He was 'in computers', which in the early eighties was unusual. He was of Afro-Caribbean stock which was even rarer in his profession: he had a masters degree in physics; he was also a very handsome, tall and well built man, and the women in the house thought him 'beautiful'. In addition he was a gentle giant, always ready to help. He also had a wicked sense of fun.

"You were miles away," Christian said with a grin. "Something on your mind? Problem with your briefs?" (referring to my case load, though allowing the double entendre to stand).

I laughed. "Not wearing any," I said. "Boxers."

"Hey, David," said Kim Price, at nineteen the youngest member, a languages undergraduate. "Wasn't someone coming to see the place this afternoon? You know, Murray's room?"

"Er, yes," I said. "She seemed interested. More so than the last one."

"Oh, she!" said Nuala Corrigan, with heavy meaning. "Is that why you're abstracted? A little embarrassed as well I see" she added with a note of mockery. "Pretty, was she?"

Everyone laughed freely at my discomfiture, which of course added further to my embarrassment.

Nuala Corrigan was Irish and worked in what she called 'the Rag Trade' though in fact she worked for a well known fashion house as PA to the local area manager.

She knew exactly how to embarrass me, and enjoyed the power, though it has to be said, she backed me up to the hilt in all the meetings.

We actually got on very well together, and I took every opportunity to get my own back. We were sparring partners and about the same age. She'd been in the house for four years.

"Now, Nuala!" I retorted. "You know you don't need to worry about competition for my affection. You know you're my first love. You're so insecure my darling!"

Everyone laughed. She pouted. I'd got my own back!

"Seriously, Dave," Kim intervened. "How did you find her?"

"I didn't," I replied, dead pan. "She came all the way to the front door by herself."

Kim affected annoyance, but couldn't help smiling, a lapse on her part which annoyed her more.

"Davey!" she whined, knowing I hated being called that and would hate her wheedling tone even more.

"OK, sweetheart," I said with dogged resignation. "She seems a good prospect. I picked up hints that she is a clean sort of person, who has trouble with her present untidy flatmates. She seemed impressed with the cleanliness of our set-up, and with the size and proportions of Murray's room. She asked if there was anyone else interested in it, so she seems keen."

"David Evans," said Nuala firmly, "stop messing about. You know what Kim means."

I sighed. "OK, OK," I said. "She was about Kim's height, oval face, brown eyes, brown hair, dressed in a french-"

"French?" inquired Kim, the language student.

"She wore a well fitted woollen coat and a beret, thick pullover, tightish trousers and flat shoes. She was slim. Smiled a lot. Came over as positive, friendly." I lapsed into silence, feeling I'd done enough!

"What does she do?" asked Christian.

"Student, I think," I replied.

"Subject?" This from Kim, intrigued by the beret.

"Don't know."

"You don't know?" Nuala gasped. "Didn't you ask?"

"Look folks, she was here to see the house and the room. I showed her round. She had another appointment, so she didn't stay for a chat. You can ask her if she turns up for interview."

By this time the other half of the kitchen was being occupied by three vegetarians, who were beginning to cook their own meal, and had crowded round to listen.

"Well I think you fancy her," said Nuala. "Is she pretty?"

"She's OK, I suppose," I admitted. "Where d'you get the idea I fancy her?"

"OK?" said Imogen, one of the Vegetarians, ignoring my question. She was twenty-three, an architecture student and quite an artist as well. She was very pretty herself and had a stream of men visiting her, though she did not seem ready to settle down. "Is that the best you can do?"

"Oh, for goodness' sake," I expostulated. "I don't need this. I'll say this and then change the subject please. You'll all get a chance to assess her if she decides to apply.

"The only way I can describe her is this. She has quite a pretty face. With trousers and an arran jumper I can't really describe her shape, but she's a few inches shorter than me."

I cast about for a description. "Look, if there were a crowd of female students coming towards you, she would not stand out. You'll have to make do with that until you meet her. Change the subject!"

"OK, said Nuala, "enough said, but still I think you fancy her!" and she giggled. I knew she was pulling my chain.

The next day, an envelope addressed to 'Mr. David Evans' in a female script, arrived, delivered by hand. I found it in my pigeon hole when I returned from work quite late that evening.

I felt a surge of excitement as I took it to my room and slit it open. Inside was the application form, a brief description of her residences while at university, a photo (which surprised me since it was not requested), and a statement from her father acting as guarantor for her rent payment. Oh, and a brief letter thanking me for my kindness in showing her around, closing with 'Yours, Helen'.

I caught myself thinking, 'If only she were!', then mentally slapped myself. Not for the first time I was asking what was wrong with me! I noted that she was studying for a Law degree as I had been, and felt an affinity with her in that, but I was sure that was not the reason I felt like I did about her.

That evening I checked with the other residents so that I could invite her to a house meeting on the following Friday, and for once everyone was at home for a least part of the evening, and so I was able to invite her.

I typed a formal letter inviting her to a seven o'clock meeting with the residents on the following Friday, but couldn't resist ending my letter as she had hers, and wondering if she would take a message from it.

I smiled to myself. If she was going to be a lawyer, she should pick up that little flirtation. In my handwriting I added a post-script telling he she was welcome to arrive early, and would be able to meet some of the residents before the more formal meeting.

There was a brief letter on the following Tuesday, accepting the invitation, but this time ending with 'Yours sincerely', which was Interesting!

Over the weekend and during the following week, I found myself thinking about her often, then chastising myself for doing so. For all I knew she could be in a steady relationship. In fact, as a second year student it was more likely than not that she was. It did not stop the image of her cropping up over and over again, though the photo propped on the mantlepiece might have been responsible!

I'd kept her photo for myself: the house did not need it.

On Friday I was on tenterhooks all day, and then Sod's Law came into play. I had a difficult meeting with an executive from an industrial client concerning a damages claim on them, who obviously felt that the open and shut case against his firm should be magically removed by our lawyers. It was a devil of a job to convince him that the most we could do was to mitigate the damage somewhat.

The meeting had been so intense and bad tempered that my mentor, John Michaels, wanted to give me an immediate follow-up assessment of my performance, as well as to plan the next steps in the process.

As a result I did not leave the office until six and I was late, arriving at the house at six forty-five, to find Helen seated in the drawing room with three of the residents, engaged in a lively and humorous discussion about the European Union and 'Brussels'.

As I walked in, Ibrahim broke into a wide smile and waved at me.

"At last, Dave!" he said, "Helen has been keeping us entertained. She's staying for dinner."

"Veggie?" I asked with a smile. "Hello, Helen!" I added with a wave of my hand.

"Of course!" Ibrahim replied. "Everyone is eating with us tonight. I put you down to join us, is that ok?"

"Yes, thank you, Ibby. I see you've met these three, Helen," indicating Imogen and Harry. "Anyone else?"

"Kim and Nuala," she said, "I think that leaves two?"

"Christian," Imogen supplied, "and Murray and Elsa, who are leaving us in the summer. I've done a cauliflower cheese and ratatouille pasta bake," she added. "Murray and Elsa aren't at home for dinner, but they'll be in later."

"I understand why everyone is eating together," I enthused. "Imogen's pasta dishes are everyone's favourite. They're enough to turn anyone veggie."

"Why thank you, Dave," Imogen said with a smile. "I'm afraid you missed most of the really juicy stuff about Helen!"

The others laughed at my expense including Helen as I looked puzzled,.

"Oh, is that right? I see I'll have to grill you later, Helen." I said, trying to sound threatening and failing.

"After Imogen's bake?" Harry retorted. "I hardly think you'll have room for grilled Helen!"

"True," I said. "OK, you're off the hook, Helen!"

Helen exhaled. "I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed!" and she winked at me! Was that a flirt?

"I know I'm disappointed," I flirted back, surprising myself at being so forward.

"In that case," asserted Imogen, "if you're that hungry, we'd better eat. Christian's dinner will keep a while. Does anyone know when he's due?"

"You know what he's like when he's programming," said Harry. "I'll ring his office."

We moved to the kitchen.

"You sit next to Helen, Dave," directed Imogen, with a conspiratorial smile at me. The others took whatever seats were available, seeming to be in on the plan.

"Christian left the office half an hour ago," said Harry, so he should-"

At that moment, Christian walked into the kitchen.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, sitting in the vacant spot, then doing a double take at Helen's presence at the table.

"Oh, you must be Helen!" he said smiling, his white teeth contrasting with his ebony skin. "Very pleased to meet you!" He stood and extended a large hand in her direction.

Helen reached over and took his hand, "Pleased to meet you too!"

"I suppose they've given you the third degree?" he asked with a wide smile.

"Something like that," she replied. "They've been very nice to me."

"They're pretty good most of the time," he said. "Dave gets edgy if the place begins to look untidy. A bit OCD, you understand."

"Watch it, Chris!" I muttered. "Slander. There are witnesses, you know."

"Did anyone hear me say anything?" Christian asked innocently, looking round.

"Everyone looked puzzled, shaking their heads. "Haven't heard a word from you since you arrived," said Harry.

"Did you say something, Chris?" asked Imogen with a wicked smile.

"I give up!" I said with a grin. "If I suffer from OCD you'd better watch out, that's all."

The conversation moved on, and I nudged Helen. "They're always like this. Think you could stand it?"

"As long as it's you they're getting at, I'll be fine," she reposted, getting a nod and a grin from Kim.

At the end of the meal, everyone, including Helen but not Imogen helped to clear, wash up, dry and put away.

"Meeting in twenty, in the dining room, ok?" I asked. It was late, and it was my fault for arriving late. "I promise it will be a very short meeting with only one item."

There was a muttered response. It was after all a Friday and people wanted to go out for the evening.

"Can I have a quick word?" I asked Helen, and on her nod, we went to the drawing room, and were left alone.

"You've met everyone," I said. "We'll have the meeting now you've met the residents. There's no need to interview you, since they've had a chance to get to know you a little. So they'll give their views on whether they think you would fit in. Before we do that, I need to know, if you think you can get get on with them."

Helen thought for a moment or two. "Well, everyone is always on their best behaviour when they first meet, but after the meal and the chatting, I think we'd get along fine. They get on well with each other and that bodes well."

"I know you'll have read the rules of the house thoroughly. You are studying law after all. Are you comfortable with the rules?"

"Perfectly. I'd be glad to be in a clean, well-organised place. Just one point. How long would a visitor have to stay before I would need to ask the others if they could stay longer - like Elsa?"

I thought for a moment, for that scenario didn't happen very often at all.

"Everyone has people to stay for a few days or a week, you know," I said, "especially if they come from elsewhere in the country. There are the guest bedrooms on the ground floor behind the post room for that eventuality. Local friends might stay overnight so they don't have to drive home. If they were to use the guest rooms, you would be expected to launder the bedding afterwards.

"I think if you were getting into a longer relationship and your partner was regularly staying two or three nights every week in your room, it would be time to ask the others for a meeting to formally accept your boy (or girl) friend, rather in the same way as we are doing now with you.

"If everyone agrees to accept them, only then could we give them a key to the house and to your room. They'd have to be clear and agree that they would have to follow the same rules as everyone else. Elsa does."

Helen thought for a moment then smiled. I couldn't help myself. I had to ask.

"Might this happen with you? I mean, is it in the offing?"

"I am seeing someone, but I can't see it getting to that stage. He's in a shared house like I am, and if I were to stay over, it would be me who'd stay at his place.

"I don't want to get too involved with him, I simply have too much work to do - there's too much at stake for me. I have to graduate with a First to get a good position in a firm."

My spirits plummeted. As I had suspected, a girl like her would be in a relationship. I'm afraid my expression gave me away and she saw, and looked concerned.

"We're not that serious, really," she seemed keen to assure me. "We only see each other about once a week."

"Oh, it's no problem," I hastened to assure her, while feeling relief at her comment. "It was simply so that we could take that into account in the meeting.

"If you want to stay to hear the result, you're very welcome. If Murray or Elsa arrive you could chat with them. Or, if you want, you can go home and we'll write to you or you could phone us later this evening."

"If it's all right with you all, I'll stay," she said. "Better to know sooner rather than later. I brought something to read."

I went to the office and picked up the paperwork, then went back to the dining room.

The meeting did not last long. I simply opened with a question, since I suspected the others were in favour.

"General feeling please: in or out? Any questions? She's waiting next door for the result, so we can ask her in if you want."

Nuala brought up what I was expecting. "The only thing we've not broached with her is whether she's got a boyfriend who'll be here often. Remember Ryan's girlfriend?"

There was a collective shudder round the room.

I said, "I can tell you that she has a boyfriend, but she was at pains to tell me that if there was any staying over, it would be at his place, and that she was not envisaging a deeper relationship with him: she's totally dedicated to getting a First in Law, and that's no sinecure; I should know."

"There's a chance for you with her then, Dave?" joked Imogen. "After all you know what it's like with her doing law and all. You can help her!"

"Don't think so," I said keeping the tone light. "I mean I could help her, but house relationships are like office affairs, generally a bad thing. How do you carry on working together if it breaks down?"

There were nods round the table at that pearl of wisdom, though I suspected it held little water with Imogen or Kim, both unrepentant romantics.

I went for the vote. "So, ladies and gents, do we accept her? Those in favour?" All hands were raised.

"Carried unanimously. Let's tell her."

I led the way into the drawing room, where Helen was talking to Elsa.

"Helen," I said formally. "The residents voted unanimously to accept your application. Officially the lease begins on the 1st of August, but I think Murray will be leaving well before June the 30th." (Elsa nodded at that). "You can negotiate with him if you want to arrive early. You could start in July if you wanted.

"There are also some documents to sign and there's the guarantor document for your parents to sign. If you'll come to the office I'll get them for you."

Helen was then hugged by the three women, and had her hand shaken by the three men. Then I took her to the office and gave her the lease to sign. She duly signed.

"The deposit needs to be cleared with our bank before the start date of your lease." I told her as we left the office and entered the atrium to move to the post room.

"Thank you," she gushed, "You've no idea what this means to me. I'm so happy!"

I helped her with her coat, and once it was on her shoulders, she suddenly turned and hugged me and then kissed me on the lips. I felt every curve of her body, twin mounds of pressure on my chest, and her soft lips on mine. I was taken unawares and as a result was somewhat stiff, and she stood back, confused and embarrassed.

"Sorry," she said. "I don't know-"

"Helen, don't be sorry! I'm not grumbling," I hastened to say. "You took me by surprise that's all. You can do it again any time you like!"

She laughed bright eyed, much to my relief, but did not repeat the exercise, leaving me wondering what the meaning of the obviously spontaneous gesture was.

I watched her as she retreated down the drive from the house, and could have sworn she skipped before turning and waving before receding down the avenue.

"God!" exclaimed Nuala when I turned back into the house. "She really fancies you, Dave, so she does! Sure, you're in there!"