Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
YETI LEG
Neve
“So he doesn’t want to find a job at all?” Bella asks as we sit in the waiting area at the hospital to have my cast off.
“No, he reckons he can make enough money to live off buying and selling cheap shit on the second hand sites.” I sigh.
“But surely that isn’t enough to pay rent. I mean, how does he pay rent?” Bella asks.
“It’s his brother’s flat and he only comes back home to visit twice a year, so he lives there rent free,” I tell her.
“And the car?” she asks.
“Including the car,” I confirm.
“Bloody hell, that is insane. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would love to be looked after like that, but surely that can’t last forever,” she points out.
“Believe me I’ve said those things to him, but he just doesn’t listen.” I shrug. “Plus, we’ve only been together what, 3-4 weeks and I don’t think we are at the stage where I’m allowed to give him my opinion on how he spends his money.”
“True, I guess. Maybe one day he will change his mind and grow up,” she adds.
“Miss Smith?” a nurse calls out.
I stand and Bella follows me into the room. I sit on the bed and the sound of a chainsaw rings out through the little room. “Jesus Christ, I’m here for a cast removal, not an entire leg,” I remind them.
“Oh, don’t you worry dear, it’s a special saw for the cast, it won’t cut your skin.” She giggles sounding like a crazed maniac.
She cuts the cast off and I can’t deny the entire time she does I’m clenching my arse so tight with nerves at the thought she’s about to cut through my leg. “There we go, all done.” She smiles before pulling my cast apart, revealing the jungle leg underneath the cast.
“Oh my fucking god, that is a lot of hair,” Bella gasps next to me.
“That is a fairly hairy one,” the nurse agrees.
“It’s like your leg is half yeti, or like you’re a werewolf that has only stuck that part of your leg out under the full moon,” Bella adds.
“Alright, bloody hell, it’s been 6 weeks okay. Give me a break,” I defend.
“Dude, that hair growth is like the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I thought mine was bad but I’m a smooth as silk and your more like Harry from Harry and the Hendersons.”
“Fine, we will go straight to the salon after this and have it waxed. Happy?” I snap.
“Yes, very. I am not sure I have any drain unblocker that will clear that from our drains,” Bella adds.
I flip her off before the nurse who I’ve now name Nurse Ratchet gives me the full recovery steps talk, while I might add “accidently” dropping stuff on my ankle or knocking into it.
I swear she’s just trying to test my pain threshold; I bet she stalks and kills many patients. She has that serial killer smile.
Over the next few weeks I attend physiotherapy and I’m slowly getting around easier without the use of crutches.
I managed to get a job working at a laundrette.
It wasn’t too bad being on my feet as I could sit down in between loads finishing and services that needed doing.
I work with an older lady called Pearl; I swear she’s a mash-up of Dot Cotton from the soap EastEnders and Magda from the movie Something About Mary.
The only difference is her hair was grey and she vapes as she can’t smoke indoors, but instead of the smell of stale smoke in the air, it was the smell of mint or liquorice.
“Sweetheart, be an angel and grab me Mr. Wilfred’s load, would you?
” she asks while she leans over the counter flirting with poor old Mr. Wilfred who looks at me with pleading eyes to rescue him.
That was another thing I’ve come to learn about Pearl, she’s a bit of a maneater.
There isn’t a single man that comes in here that she doesn’t flirt with.
I thought the menopause stopped all those urges but not for Pearl. She’s like a dog in heat.
I grab his washing and hand it to him. “There you go Mr. Wilfred, all clean for you.” I smile. He practically snatches it and runs for the door, not looking back.
“I wonder why he was in such a hurry?” Pearl queries.
“Who knows, maybe his wife needs him,” I dig at her.
She shoos me away with her hand. “That woman doesn’t know a good thing when she sees it. A good woman would be doing his washing, cleaning for him and cooking his supper. Yet it’s him that comes here each week to do his laundry. That tells you a lot about their marriage,” she harps on.
“Yeah, it tells us that he values his wife and likes to help her out,” I point out.
She pauses for a moment. “No, it doesn’t work like that for us older generation, there is no 50/50 in a relationship. It’s the wife’s duty to look after her husband, it’s how we are raised, all different for you youngsters,” she adds, taking a big pull on her vape.
I shake my head at her, no point in arguing. Like she said, it’s how they were brought up, it’s what she knows but I’m pretty sure she wasn’t brought up to be a man-eating homewrecker.
I spend the rest of my day happily cleaning people’s laundry. I like the customers that come in and I quite like the job.
“You got your fella picking you up after work today?” Pearl asks.
“No not today, he’s picking up some stock from Brighton today so it’s a night to myself.” I smile.
“Alright then lovely, I will run you home, can’t have you hobbling along home. It will take you forever and a day.” She smiles.
“Thanks Pearl, I appreciate it, but it’s okay.
I was going to his place to surprise him and clean up his flat for when he gets back, honestly it’s like a jumble sale in there.
” I shudder at the mess; I mean I have no idea when his brother is coming back but I would dread to think if he came back early and saw the flat in the state that it’s in.
“You’re too good for him my girl, I hope he knows what he’s got!” she preaches.
“He does, don’t worry. I will see you tomorrow and I will grab us a coffee on my way in,” I yell over my shoulder as I leave the laundrette.
I walk to Dylan’s place. I am lucky that it’s only a 10 minute walk. Once I’m there I walk up the stairs to his apartment. I notice the door is open and I frown walking in. Maybe he’s home early.
“Dylan?” I call out as I enter. I notice a guy in a suit and removal men are busy picking up stuff and walking out with it. “What’s going on?” I ask.
The guy in the suit turns around, he looks pissed. “Get the fuck out of my apartment.” He growls.
“Your apartment?” I question. “Oh, you must be Dylan’s brother!” I smile and hold out my hand in greeting. “I’m sorry about Dylan’s mess. I was just about to de-clutter and clean it, he never mentioned that you were coming to visit today.”
“I’m not Dylan’s brother, I don’t even know who the fuck Dylan is. I know I had a tenant that I was renting my apartment to while I was working away that changed my fucking locks and squatted here for the past 4 months while I got a fucking court order to have him evicted.” He seethes.
I feel the blood drain from my face and I become light headed, my eyes darting around the room, my pulse quickening as I struggle to breathe. Before I know it the world goes black.
Iawake to the guy in the suit lightly tapping my face.
“I’m guessing you had no idea about any of this, did you?
” he states. I blink a few times and shake my head no in agreement.
He helps me into a sitting position and hands me a bottle of water.
“Do you normally faint when faced with bad news?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever fainted before,” I answer.
“Look, I’m sorry about this but you can’t stay here, do you have somewhere to go?” he asks.
“Oh yeah, I haven’t moved in, I was just staying here some nights.” I shrug, feeling like a complete and utter fool.
He looks at me with sympathetic eyes. “Come. I will drive you home,” he offers and helps me stand.
“Oh no, don’t worry, I will be just fine,” I say, wincing as I stand. I must have fell awkwardly on my ankle.
“I insist,” he states sternly. “Neil, I will be back in a minute,” he tells some guy as he leads me out of the flat and down to his car.
I keep my head down and avoid looking at him. With the humiliation I feel right now, I just want to hide away.
“You’re going to have to tell me your address,” he states as he starts up his car.
I tell him my address and just stare out of the window. The car ride is silent apart from the quiet background noise from the radio. I’m thankful that he doesn’t push conversation on me, I just want to get back home and crawl into my bed.
A while later the car comes to a stop. “We are here,” he states softly.
“Oh, um, thank you,” I mutter and get out of his car, not looking back.