8. Ollie
Chapter 8
Ollie
“My daughter needs a roommate,” he says quietly, and I wait for him to say more.
“OK. Do you want me to ask around and see if I know anyone?”
“No, you plum,” he laughs warmly. “You heard her. She’s been living with her friend for years. I don’t like the idea of my girl on her own there. We bought that place years ago, so it’s all paid for.”
Lucky girl, but I still don’t follow.
“I’m saying I want you to move in.”
My head jerks back as I struggle to process what he’s just said. “What? That’s… You don’t need to do that. She literally just said she’s happy living on her own.”
I’ve barely met Megan, but I can already tell she’d never agree to it. I’m a stranger to her. If anything, she’s probably less likely to agree after what happened to her today.
“Listen, son. Me and the missus have got it all planned out. It’s a win-win. You can live there rent free and save extra money for your van. And we can sleep better at night knowing someone’s looking out for her.”
Ah, there’s the catch.
He wants me to spy on his daughter for him, which feels like a fast slide into pissing the woman off. I’ve spent most of my life trying not to do anything to incur the wrath of my three older sisters, I’m not much interested in living with another woman who doesn’t like me.
But rent free?
That alone is a good enough reason to say yes, but there are bound to be others. Judging by what I’ve seen of their home today, there’s no way Mr Porter would let his daughter live in a crapheap like the one I’ve ended up in.
And living with Megan wouldn’t be much of a chore, either. I bet she’s tidy, keeps to herself, and doesn’t play loud music all night long. I bet she doesn’t let food go off in the kitchen or leave drugs lying around the place, either. Maybe I could finally get a decent sleep.
It’s hard to find arguments against those pros, but I pick at the edge of the label on my bottle and think of a few.
“Is she single?”
“Why does that matter?” he asks, sternly.
“I’d want to know if she’s got some boyfriend who’s gonna be pissed off at me.”
“She’s got this long distance thing going on with some guy in Australia. We don’t like that either.”
“Is there somewhere to park the van?”
“There’s a resident’s car park, but it’s never full. It’s outside, so if you’ve got days you need to keep her dry, you can park in my garage.”
No rent, guaranteed parking, and one tidy, quiet, gorgeous roommate. There’s no way it can be worse than where I am now, and Mr Porter is right. I’ll have loads more money to get my van done up, maybe even make things better than I planned. Megan might not be happy about it, but it will only be temporary, and I’m sure between work and the van I’ll barely see her, anyway. It will mostly be a place to sleep.
“Do we have a deal?” He leans forward, and when he offers his hand, I shake it firmly.
“Deal.”
Mrs Porter appears a few moments later with a cup of tea for each of us. She drops her hand to my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “The spare room’s all made up for you, Ollie. I’ll see you boys in the morning.”
“I’m good to drive home. You don’t need to put me up.”
“Nonsense. You’re staying,” she says. “And tomorrow we’ll go pick up your stuff and get you moved in. You never have to spend a night in that rotten house again. OK?”
I nod, suppressing a smile when she rounds the table to kiss her husband on the cheek. He watches her leave, then leans back in his chair and drinks his tea. It’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. He’s got his spark back again.
“Was this moving in thing your idea, or Val’s?” I ask.
“Give me a break. I might be your boss, Ollie, but she’s the boss round here.”