‘I’m afraid that as the leaseholder Mr Hamlin had the right to terminate the contract, whenever he pleased, as long as he followed the terms of the lease.’
Helena’s head was spinning. She rubbed her forehead, trying to come up with a plan that did not involve her being turfed out on the street. ‘Well then I’ll have to take over the lease. Yes. I’ll take it over, and put my name to it… so there’ll be no need for any viewings.’
‘If that is the case I will need a new deposit, and proof of earnings, recent payslips over the past six months.’
She had not earned anything in over three years. There was no way she would be allowed to take on the tenancy agreement with no earnings.
‘I haven’t been working, I’ve been a stay-at-home mum…’
‘I’m afraid those are the requirements.’
‘But you can’t throw me out of my home.’
‘I would certainly not wish to do that to anyone.’ She could hear the sympathy in his voice. ‘But I’m afraid if you can’t provide proof of earning, and you are telling me you have no money coming in, I can’t possibly continue to rent the property to you.’
She closed her eyes, trying to think of a way to change his mind. ‘I’ll get a job. I’ll be able to pay the rent, I promise.’
‘I’m afraid without the relevant paperwork there is no way I can transfer the lease into your name. You will have four weeks to vacate the property…’
‘No!’ she howled.
‘Miss Beale, what other choice do I have?’
What other choice didshehave?
‘Look. I understand this is not ideal. But I promise I am trustworthy. I am begging you…’
‘Four weeks, Miss Beale. I’m sure you will be able to sortsomething out. In the meantime, I will be showing viewers around as and when… I have my own set of keys, so there’s no need for you to worry. I’ll call in advance to let you know what time I’ll be around, in case you wish to make yourself absent.’
She tried her best to persuade him to change his mind. She begged and pleaded, more and more desperate with each second that passed. But he was adamant that there was nothing he could do. By the time he ended the call, undoubtedly relieved to have dusted his hands of the whole situation, she was puce, sweating and almost ready to faint.
Once again, she realised she was struggling to breathe. She sat herself down on the sofa and leant forward. She had never felt so unbearably alone. She tried to remember some of her mother’s advice, ‘Breathe, just breathe: in with light, out with heaviness. Receive… release,’ but it made her feel even more panicked, even more isolated, knowing she had no one to turn to, no one to help her. She was all she had. Without Noah, without Raffy, she was nothing. Worthless. What was the point in her even existing without them? She shrank back onto the sofa and concentrated on her breathing. Retreating further and further inside herself. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the sofa cushion. She felt suffocated in a dark fog of loneliness, crushing her with its weight.
20
HELENA KNEW SHEwas sinking deeper into a state of denial. She couldn’t help it. It was as though the rational part of her brain had been stunned into silence. Instead of swinging into action, she wanted to bury her head in the sand. The landlord’s words rang in her ears. She lay aimlessly in bed, not even able to summon the energy to move, to open her curtains. It was hopeless. She drank bottle after bottle of wine, not even tasting it, slowly making her way through Noah’s prized collection. It was the only thing she could do to numb the pain. Day blurred into night, night into day. Her head ached, her mouth was dry. She smelt. She looked a mess. She was disgusting herself.
It had been over two weeks since Noah had left. Like a ticking timebomb, two weeks remained until she had to move out of her home. The landlord had been around with viewers. Preferring not to face him she had made herself get up, open the curtains and make her bed. She had done a cursory tidy, hauling a sack of empties out to the bin. She had left the house each time, not wanting to bump into anyone that might recognise her in the village. She got in her car, praying she wouldn’t bump into Margery or Johnny as she pulled out of the gate, before driving a mile or so then parking on the side of the road. She had sat there, vacantly staring into the distance, tears rolling down her cheeks. After enough time had passed, and more, she had driven home, making sure there was no car visible in the driveway at Hazel Cottage. She just couldn’t face seeing another soul.
The landlord had informed her that the final viewing had been successful, the new tenants would be moving in on 8 September.She knew she had to start looking for somewhere to go. She had to force herself to face the facts. She stuck a leg out of the side of her bed. Pulling herself up and out felt like a monumental effort. Her limbs felt like lead. She wrapped a long cardigan around herself and went down to the kitchen.
There was a knock at the front door. Her pulse raced as she darted behind the island. It was Margery, calling her name. She could hear Johnny, too. Margery must have noticed she’d been hiding away. Helena cowered close to the floor, there was no way she could receive visitors. She would rather die than let Johnny see her like this. When she was sure their voices had faded away she crept to the window. There was no one there, only the vacant spot where Noah’s car had been. Someone had collected it a couple of days before – a company car, apparently Noah had arranged its return. At least her car was her own, she had bought it with some of the money her mother had left her – the one thing Noah couldn’t take away from her.
Unwilling to be spotted, she crept back upstairs with her laptop. She sat on Raffy’s bed, feeling the tears spill over yet again as she looked at all his beloved possessions, forever abandoned here, probably on the other side of the world to where he was now.
She checked her phone, scanning the screen for any new notifications, never losing the hope that today might be the day when she heard from Noah, that this all went away. Nothing. Of course there was nothing.
Taking a deep breath in, she exhaled slowly. She needed to take a closer look at her finances. Opening her personal account she looked at the balance on the screen. She had spent almost all of her savings, but there was a small amount left. She probably had enough to tide her over for a couple of months. With trembling hands she opened a tab and loaded spareroom.com. She registered her details. She would need to find a room in a flat share: there was no way she could afford to stay in Sussex if she rented alone. She selected her search area and set the results to display the least expensive rental first. She clicked on the cheapest. She could justabout afford it with the savings she had in her personal account, at least for a month or two. She needed to start earning, and to start earning quickly. Not stopping to think, she forced herself to contact the landlord and arrange to view the property.
21
HELENA FELT COMPLETELYnumb as she viewed the tiny spare room in a run-down, smelly flat on the edge of a depressingly bleak, rural town. She felt nothing but apathy as she agreed to the terms – there was no paperwork, just a verbal agreement. No wonder it was so cheap. She resigned herself to this new home, too exhausted and emotionally fatigued to care, knowing only that she needed a place to live, that she had nowhere else to go. Slowly, she packed up the house, beside herself with tears. Unable to take everything with her, she was forced to decide which of Raffy and Noah’s possessions to keep, still stoking the tiny, sputtering flame of hope alive deep inside her that they might come back to her. The teddy she had bought him that he loved so much. She knew just how much he would be missing it. Noah’s favourite jumper, left behind in the rush to pack and escape her. Her heart twisted with grief as she drove bin liners of possessions to the charity shop. She avoided making eye contact with the kind lady who worked there. She couldn’t believe how much her life had changed since she’d brought Margery’s stuff in a few months before.
Mr Collins came around to collect the keys and inspect the property. She hadn’t bothered cleaning, more than happy for Noah’s deposit to pay.
Unable to leave without saying goodbye to Margery, Helena called in on her final trip out of Hambleton.
‘Helena!’ Margery sang as she threw open the door, allowing light to flood her still-sparkling hallway. ‘I’ve been wondering where you’ve been hiding! Have you been away?’
