[DeepInnerFreak]

The Lake House

Chapter One

Little did he know, in the next hour, Nick was going to make a decision that would change his life forever. There was no way he could foresee the events that will, over the next few days unfold. He wouldn’t even witness the circumstances that lead to the turnaround.

He found himself, yet again, nursing a half drunk pint of ale, watching the London commuters head home after a hard Thursday’s work. Whenever he felt down or something had gone wrong, he would take a seat on one of the eight picnic tables that ran along the outside of the white pebble dashed exterior of his favourite pub–The Watchman. The tables were so close to the passing commuters that if he reached out he would be able to touch them as they hurried along. He never did of course. He was more entertained by their sad little lives, stuck in the continuous, never ending wheel of the rat race. He never understood how so many people could be content being told what to do, how to act, how to dress. It was a scorching summer day and there were all these idiots, running around in suits and business dress, he mused.

His thoughts were cut short by a faint sobbing behind him. Nick turned around and saw a girl a few tables away hunched over with his back to him. The girl had bleach blonde hair and was tapping at her phone. “Clearly one of the rat race lot” he concluded as he looked closer. She was dressed smartly in a grey suit jacket, matching skirt, black tights and black patent leather high heels. “Probably a redundancy” he thought to himself as the shallow blubbering continued.

The girl's phone rings but gets swiftly cancelled.

The sound of sniffling continues, as Nick’s attention moves away from the commuters and more towards the unhappy girl behind him.

The girl’s phone ring’s again. Like last time, it is cut off within seconds.

“Why do these fools do it to themselves”, he thought to himself, assuming the girl is being harassed by some male colleague that wants to check she's okay after her lay off.

Nick never really appreciated how fortunate he was. At Thirty–Six years old, he never had to work for anything. Being the only child of a well-off mother, he had been given most of the things he owned. He lived in a stunning terrace town house in Forest Gate, which he moved into a couple of years ago after admitting his senile mother into care. The apartment in Stratford that she bought for him, he now rented out. This along with a small online business provided his main source of income. Everything from his mother was transferred to him. He didn’t need a job, never had done, never could. Not since the incident at school that impeded him from living a normal life.

The girl's phone rings again, this time she answers.

“Leave me alone”, the girl sobbed.

Nick’s eyes looked sideways, following his ear to see if his prediction of an unwanted male colleague was correct.

“I can’t come back there, I won’t, not after what you did”.

“Oh”, thinks Nick, “something a little deeper than an unsolicited advance”.

“Just leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you, we’re done. I’ll find somewhere”.

The girl ends the conversation and the gentle cries resume.

Nick didn’t really care much for emotional girls. He could never handle any sort of conflict. He preferred instead to just get on with things, the way he was brought up to. “Men don’t have feelings or sentiments” he told himself, relaying his teachings from his mother. That adage had served him well. He did however become curious about the nature of the girl's last words–“I’ll find somewhere”. Having lost yet another tenant, a familiar cycle that had become the norm at the apartment, he couldn’t help but think that he was presented with an opportunity to address that problem. An opportunity that would save him a lot of time and a little money. No advertising fees, no agent commissions, no trawling through a long list of applicants. This girl already sounded amenable, maybe even desperate. He decided to do something he had never done before. He approached a girl.

“Hey, are you okay”, Nick said hesitantly to the girl. She looked up at him with mascara running from her deep, wide brown eyes down her face. “She’s beautiful”, Nick thinks to himself as she starts talking.

“I’m not. I’m sorry, am I disturbing you? I’ll go”.

“No, no, not at all”, I just…” Nick fumbled over his words. “You seemed upset”.

“I just have a lot going on”, the girl said, seemingly distracted by her thoughts. She looked away and attempted to wipe the mascara that was draining from her eyes. Only she made it worse, her face now looking like a pissed street artist had graffiti sketched his tag all down her cheeks. She fumbled in her handbag, making quite a racket.

Nick looked away, pretending he’d noticed something more interesting in the distance. He wanted to leave the girl to her miserable situation but that felt too awkward now.

She pulled out a compact mirror from her handbag, opening it up and looking into it. “Fuck, I looks such a mess”. She roots around in her bag again, “Urgh, do you have a tissue or something?”

Nick knows he doesn’t but pats his black t-shirt and blue jeans down anyway, wanting to look like he wasn’t just being blunt when he said “no”.

The girl continues rifling through her bag.

“Wait here, I’ll grab you a napkin from the bar”.

The girl doesn’t respond and continues to look through her bag.

Nick returns, feeling like the hero with the ladders to save the cat from the tree. The girl is sitting with her head buried in her arms on the table.

“Here”, says Nick, waving a handful of paper napkins at her. “I got you a drink too, looks like you could do with one”.

The girl takes the napkins, looks into her mirror and begins cleaning. “Thanks for the drink, but it’s not necessary”.

“Well it’s there if you change your mind”. “Urgh you idiot Nick”, he tells himself. “She probably thinks you spiked it. Amateur move”.

He walks away, back to the table he was on before cursing himself for buying the girl a drink.

A few moments pass and the girl walks past his table towards the main street before stopping and turning to Nick.

“Hey, do you know what bus will get me to Clapham?”

“Bus?” Nick asks confused, "Clapham is the other side of London, you’d be better off going by tube, the station is just round the corner”.

“I know how London transport works, I just want some alone time before going to my friends”.

“Honestly, I have no idea”, there’s probably a lot of changes. I can look it up, won’t take me long”.

The girl sits down at Nick’s table as he looks at his phone, asking google the best route by bus.

“Hmm, it’s just giving me a load of tube options, might take a little longer”.

“Okay, thanks”.

“Are you doing anything nice at your friend's place?” Nick thinks he has a second chance to speak about the possibility of her being his tenant.

“No, not really, just need somewhere to crash the night”.

“Oh, do you not have somewhere to stay?”

“It’s all a mess”, the girl almost starts crying again but holds back, her voice cracking. “I just found out my boyfriend cheated on me. I was living with him and well, now I don’t”.

“Fucking emotions probably drove him to it”, Nick thinks to himself. “That sounds rough. Do you have any plans after tonight?”

The girl lets out a one breath laugh like it’s the most stupid question unless it wasn’t so serious. “No, I suppose I am officially homeless. I am heading up to another friend's house this weekend, but after that…”, she pauses for a few seconds. “I’ll sort it out”.

“What do you do for a living, could someone at work help you out?” Nick asks the girl.

“I’m a paralegal”. The girl sighs. “Everyone I work with is up their own arse. We all hate each other. Anyone who would offer me help would only be doing it so they had some juicy gossip for the office. So no, that’s not an option”.

“Parents?”.

“They live miles away, no good for work sadly. Honestly I’ll be fine”.

“Hmm”, Nick ponders as he builds up the courage to ask. “Feel free to say no, but I do have an apartment in Stratford and I just lost a tenant…”

Nick gets cut off from finishing. “No it’s okay, I really don’t want to live around guys at the moment”.

Nick looks up from his phone. “You wouldn’t be, I don’t live there myself. I live round the corner from here. The apartment has one other tenant, a girl. She’s lovely. Bethany”, he smiled as he said her name. “It’s fairly modern, open planned and…” Nick pauses, realising he’s probably over selling it and sounding desperate.

The girl looked at Nick with an unsure expression, but looked like she was considering it.

“Look, it’s no skin off my nose. I need a tenant, you’d be saving me a whole load of admin costs and time. I can leave you my number, give yourself some time to think?”

The girl took a moment, before pulling out her phone. “Okay, what’s your name?”

“Nick”.

She typed his number in her phone and Nick passed on the convoluted route to Clapham by bus. The girl stood up and was about to leave.

“Wait, what’s your name?”

“Chloë”, replied the girl, looking over her shoulder. “Thanks for your help, I’ll let you know later about the apartment”.

Unbeknownst to him, Bethany and even Chloë, Nick had just sealed his fate.