Chapter 19
JUST WHEN SHE thought nothing could get any worse, that she couldn’t possibly sink any lower than she already had, the telephone rang.
Helena jumped up from her position slumped on the floor with lightning speed, hitting her head with a forceful bang on the corner of the dresser.
Ignoring the flash of pain, she half-jumped, half-flew across the room, convinced it would be Noah, praying that he might finally have come to his senses.
Knocking the receiver off the handset with trembling hands, not helped by having lived on a diet of nothing but coffee and alcohol for days, she scrabbled with the handset, terrified she might have accidentally disconnected the call.
She pressed it up to her ear and gasped hello.
Her mouth was so dry she could barely talk.
‘Is Mr Hamlin there?’ A male voice crackled down the line.
Helena’s heart stopped in its tracks. It wasn’t Noah. Had something happened to him? To Raffy? Her body stiffened in anticipation of bad news.
‘It’s Edward Collins speaking, the landlord.’
It took Helena a minute or two for her brain to compute the words she had heard, so sure had she been that she was about to hear news of Noah and Raffy.
‘Oh hello,’ she replied. ‘It’s Helena Beale, his partner.’ She might as well have plunged a dagger into her heart as the words escaped her lips uncorrected.
‘I wanted to arrange some viewings, if that’s alright with you?’
She was silent, racking her brains to understand what he could be talking about.
‘Of the property?’ he continued, a questioning tone to his words.
‘Sorry, what?’
‘Viewings? For prospective tenants?’
‘I’m sorry. I don’t follow. For where?’
‘For the house.’ He was talking to her as if she was a child. She felt like one, as if she was meant to be understanding something she could not.
He cleared his throat. ‘If you are leaving by the end of the month, I need to show prospective tenants around the property to fill the vacancy.’
‘What?’
‘You terminated your agreement early, as per the break clause?’
Helena gasped. ‘We what?’
‘Terminated the lease.’ he repeated.
‘When?’
‘I received notice two weeks ago. You have a six-week break clause. Forgive me, I was in contact with Mr Hamlin, the leaseholder? May I speak with him?’
Helena stammered ‘I—I’m afraid he’s not here. I think he’s left the country.’ At this she began to cry.
She tried to pull herself together, drawing deep gasps of air into her lungs, fighting the rising hysteria. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Is everything alright madam?’ He paused. ‘You seem… distressed.’
‘I… Noah has left me, he’s left without any explanation, he’s taken his son, he’s gone back to New Zealand. Without me.’
‘Er…’
She felt light-headed. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.’
‘So, he hadn’t told you about his decision to terminate the lease?’
Her stomach clenched. ‘No.’
‘I see.’
Panic was coursing through her as she realised how urgently she needed to put a stop to this if she didn’t want to end up homeless.
‘There… there has been some kind of mistake.’
‘Well—’
‘Mr Collins, I need to keep living here. Please. Please don’t throw me out. I have nowhere to go.’
There was a silence down the line.
‘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 did she have?
‘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 sort something 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.