Page 3 of Resisting Mr Black

“Sophie, darling,” she croons in her Polish lilt. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you all afternoon.”

“I’m at work today.” I glance at Lucy who rolls her eyes. Lucy’s never been a fan of Magda. Her psychedelic hippy, spiritualistic vibes don’t mix too well with Lucy’s that’s-a-load-of-old-rubbish approach to all things mindfulness.

“Oh darling, of course you are. Silly old me. I’m sorry to call you about this whilst you’re at work. It’s not good news, I’m afraid.”

A moment of uneasiness seizes me, and I freeze.Gas leak? Water leak?When Theo and I split up, I was left with only a few possessions, but they were mine. I had to start over and most of my bits of furniture are second-hand, but I’ve made them my own by adding pretty throws or cushions. The idea of them being water-damaged in a leak or burnt to a crisp in a fire renders me mute for a moment. And then there’s my Dad’s painting…

“Whatever’s the matter?” I ask, not entirely sure I want to hear the answer.

“Asbestos.”

I frown and try to work out what the impact that one word will have on my life.

“Asbestos?” I repeat.

Lucy’s eyes widen, and she pulls a face which signifies it’s not good.

“I’m afraid so, darling. I was having some rewiring done in the back of the shop and the electrician found some dodgy panels on the ceiling. Next thing I know he’s telling me it’s a highly dangerous form of asbestos.”

I chew my bottom lip as my stomach somersaults at the words “highly dangerous.” “But that’s just in your shop, isn’t it? My flat should be okay?” I ask hopefully.

“Sorry, darling. The electrician said it’s likely the building is riddled with it, including the flat. I’ve got a specialist team coming in to investigate it further, drill holes and such, and it’ll make a right mess. I’m having to close the shop and you, darling, well I’m afraid you’ve got to get out.”

“Get out!” I cry. My stomach feels as though it’s cartwheeling down a hill now. I can’t get out, I’ve got nowhere to get out to. “Erm… when have I got to get out by?”

Lucy shoots me an alarmed look.

“Right away, darling. It’s not safe.”

“Right away,” I repeat, unable to believe my ears.

“I’m not sure how long it’s going to take to sort out.” In the background I hear a doorbell ring. “Oh, darling. Sorry, that’s the front door. I’ll pop by the flat tomorrow, so we can talk more then. See you.” And after dropping that bombshell she hangs up.

I stare down at my mobile in disbelief as my brain tries desperately to digest the information dump I’ve just been subjected to.

“Did I hear right?” Lucy swivels round on her chair to face me. “Your batshit crazy landlord has just phoned to tell you she’s evicting you from your flat?”

“Asbestos,” I reply quietly, dropping the phone on the desk with a clatter. “What the fuck am I going to do, Luce? I’ve got to get out, it’s dangerous.”

“I’ve heard it is pretty bad to be fair,” Lucy says. “What about staying with your mum and Martin?”

I frown. When Mum and my stepdad married, they downsized to a two-bed terrace and his love of miniature railways means there’s little room for anything else. “Apart from the fact that I’d go utterly crazy, they haven’t got the space.”

“You can always come and stay with me and Mark till you get something more permanent sorted,” Lucy offers.

I’m already shaking my head. “No, but thanks.”

“It’ll be fine. You can have the spare room if you don’t mind being surrounded by wedding stuff. To be honest, it’ll be nice to have a bit of company. Mark’s working until all hours at the mo.”

“Thanks for the offer, but it’s not fair to do that; not now. You’ve got enough on your plate with the wedding coming up, you don’t want me in the way.” I smile, grateful for the offer, but pretty sure I’m not going to play gooseberry between my best friend and her fiancé.

They met at university, the same time I met Theo. Whilst our relationship went from light to dark pretty quickly, then crashed and burnt four years later, Lucy and Mark went from strength to strength. They looked after me when I left Theo, offering me a place to stay, a shoulder to cry on, and whiling away many nights putting the world to rights over a bottle of wine. I couldn’t impose on their pre-wedding bubble.

“I’ll sort something,” I nod, trying to keep positive. “There’s bound to be something available.” My positive vibe is already slipping before I’ve finished the sentence. My rent is cheap and to find another place I can afford is going to be a challenge.

“The offer still stands.” Lucy gives my hand a pat in a way that suggests she knows the struggle I’m facing. “Something will come up. Things can only get better.”

Ibloody hope so.