My Flat Available for Rent

My Flat Is Up for Rent

Natalie Jane Orton, now Mrs. Glover, always believed that the most frightening thing in life was how good things begin quietly, almost imperceptibly, and then fade away just as softly, but inevitably. Its the same with flowers on the window sill: you water them, and they seem to be just fine. Then one day you see their leaves are yellow and realise you cant save them anymore.

She noticed the scent even as she climbed the stairs.

Heavy, powdery, almost cloying. Coty LAimant. That fragrance she could never mistake, because it always lingered in the air at Margaret Glovers flat, her mother-in-law. It burrowed into her clothes, her hair, her memory.

Natalie paused outside her own front door, keys in hand.

It was four oclock. Shed left work earlier than usualSandra from accounts said she looked pale and insisted she go home to rest. Natalies head had been throbbing since morning, as if someone was tightening a clamp round her temples. She just wanted to take some paracetamol, make herself a cup of tea, and curl up on the sofa.

But the smell told a different story.

She unlocked her door.

Three cardboard boxes stood in the hall, previously home to a fridge. Large, with Beko written on the side. One was sealed with tape, the others open and covered with yesterdays Times.

From the kitchen, she heard the rustle of things being packed, the gentle clatter of crockery, and the familiar muttering under ones breath.

***

Margaret, Natalie called out, not moving an inch further in. Whats going on?

The rustling stopped. Margaret appeared in the kitchen doorwaya robust, practical woman of fifty-seven, wearing a striped apron over a smart grey suit. Her hair was tidied neatly; her hands covered with washing-up gloves. She looked busy, with an air of ceremony.

Natalie, love! said Margaret, in that tone nurses use to announce slightly unwelcome news for your own good. Youre home early. Not feeling well?

What are you doing here? Natalie remained on the doormat.

Dont get yourself worked up. Margaret peeled off one glove, then the other, folding them together very deliberately. This is for you and Daniel. Sit down, let me explain.

Ill stand. Explain.

Margarets lips pressed into a linea look of someone unaccustomed to being challenged. Shed been head matron at the Highgate Medical Centre for 23 years, and people followed her word as command, not suggestion.

Fine, Margaret gestured to the kitchen. At least come in, dont hover by the door. Ill make you some tea.

No tea. Whats in the boxes?

Margaret sigheda deep, theatrical sigh that only the tired can muster.

Kitchen things. Pans. Some frying pans. The crystal glasses are wrapped separately in bubble wrap, dont worry. The plates are still therefor the tenants.

Natalie heard the word tenants. It washed through her, settling somewhere at her stomach.

Which tenants? she asked flatly.

Ive found you tenants. Margaret said it as if announcing good fortune. A young couple, with a little boy, about five. Solid people. Hes on the building sites, shes at home on maternity leave. Ive checked them out. Theyre moving in on Friday.

Friday, Natalie repeated. Thats three days from now.

Three days, yes, and Ive already secured the advance. Theyre paying first and last months rent upfront.

Natalie set her bag on the hall table. Unzipped her coat, hung it up. Each movement took efforther head still ached, and a cold set in her palms, despite the heated flat.

Margaret, she managed at length. Did you talk to Daniel about this?

Of course. We agreed ages ago, didnt we? When Daniel lost his bonus three months back. I said: lets let the flat, you move in with me, save up. All very sensible.

We never agreed, Natalie shook her head. I said I didnt want to.

You said youd think about it, Margaret gently corrected.

No. I said I didnt want to. Daniel asked me not to fuss, so I kept quiet. That isnt the same as agreeing.

Margaret crossed her arms. That stance meant her mind was made up, and any protest was unnecessary.

Natalie, youre a reasonable girl. Youre an accountant. You can do the sums. Lets add up: how much does your mortgage cost a month?

Thats not your concern.

Natalie

No. Natalies voice remained calm, not rising. Our finances are not your concern.

A pause filled the hallway. The distant noise of traffic drifted in from the open window. Somewhere, a tram went along Muswell Hill.

Youre entitled to your opinion, Margarets words now had an edge, usually hidden under her ready concern. But its not just you. Daniel agrees.

Ill ring Daniel, said Natalie, pulling out her phone.

***

Daniel picked up on the third call, the background hum and shouts signalling he was still at the works.

Hey Nat, everything alright? Youre back early.

Dan, your mums packing up our flat, Natalie said, voice level. Shes found tenants. She says theyre moving in Friday.

A pauseheartbeat, two.

Nat, I was going to tell you

You knew?

Mum rang last night, shed found a couple. I thought you two would discuss”

Dan. Natalie leaned against the hallway wall. You knew and said nothing. I come home to find our stuff packed. Do you get what that means?

Nat, I know youre upset

Come home.

Ive a meeting at six

Dan. Her voice was steady and cold. Come home now.

He arrived half-past five. By then, Natalie was nursing cold tea in the kitchen. Margaret remained in the lounge, reorganising her porcelain dog collection onto the mantelpiece, souvenirs from Guildford.

Danieltall, fair-hairedwore his weary expression, one hed adopted lately. He worked as a structural engineer in Crouch End and commuted in every morning; Natalie excused his tiredness, usually. Not tonight.

Nat he began, hovering in the doorway.

Sit.

He obeyed. She put her cup down.

Explain to me, she said, how our home is being let out without a word to me.

Nothings decided, he said, hopeful for a loophole. Mum just found a possible option. I thought you two”

Weve discussed it. Shes packing up the saucepans, Natalie interrupted. Is that her option?

Nat, you dont understand our situation”

Then explain.

I lost the bonus. That was six weeks back. Weve been overdrawn every month since. Mortgage, council tax, shopping. Im still paying off the car. Were in trouble, Nat.

Natalie listened. All true. Money had indeed become tight. But not a disaster. She had her steady job at Harmon & Co, they could cope.

I suggested we cut back, she reminded him. No ski trip at Christmas. Drop the gym for a while. Remember?

I remember.

That would be enough.

Mum thinks not.

And you?

He fell silent. The silence said too much.

Dan, Natalie leaned closer. Whose name is this flat under?

Well, technically yours, but we’re married

Not technically. My father gave it to me, three months before the wedding. Which means its mine in law, my property. By rights, by the deeds. Neither you nor your mother can let it without my written agreement. Its criminal otherwisedid you know?

Daniel looked up, a spark of uncertainty crossing his face.

You wouldnt call the police on your husband

Its not about police, Dan. Its about letting your mother make decisions for youover the things that arent hers. And keeping quiet about it. Why?

Footsteps approached. Margaret appeared in the kitchen, as expected.

Dan, she said, business-like. Youre here, good. Please talk to Natalie, she clearly doesnt quite grasp the situation.

Mum, just give us Daniel began.

Give you what? Margaret moved to the window. The tenants are waiting for an answer. Good people, they wont wait. If we say no, theyll find somewhere else, and that’ll be that.

Margaret, said Natalie, my answer is no. I wont let out the flat. Were not moving in with you. Thats final.

Margaret stared at her, measuring her quietly, then turned to her son.

Daniel. Did you hear?

Mum, maybe”

Daniel. Her voice was harsher. I’ve worked with these people for three days. I’ve organised a viewing for tomorrow. Are you going to let her stubbornness ruin it all?

Its not her stubbornness, Daniel muttered, “Nat, will you?”

Natalie got up, took her cup to the sink, then faced them.

Theres no viewing tomorrow, she said. No tenants moving in Friday. If Margaret brings them round, Ill explain in person why they cant stay here. Good night.

She retreated to the bedroom and closed the door. Not a slam, just closed.

***

The night was tense. Daniel came to bed at eleven. They lay on opposite sides, not touching; Natalie listened to his breathingsteady, as though he might be feigning sleep. She could not sleep. She remembered something her father used to say: “If you want to solve a problem, step back. Up close, everything looks scarier.”

He died four years ago. Hed given her the flatnot just as a gift but as protection, a kind of anchor.

Her anchor now sat, packed, in a box.

No, not really. The boxes were real, but the anchor was something else. It was the deeds. They were all in the glass cabinet, in a blue folder shed brought with her during the first move and never changed. The land registry certificate. The transfer document. Everything stamped and signed.

She knew Margaret would return tomorrow with the tenantsjust as surely as she knew shed make herself coffee for breakfast. Margaret never left things half-done. That was both her greatest strength, and her greatest weakness. She never backed down.

Natalie sometimes did.

But only when there was good reason.

Now, there wasnt.

Daniel rustled nearby, but she didnt turn over. Nor did he. There they were: two people with a year together, a shared bathroom reno, their first new years tree, and two sets of keys to the same door.

Natalie thoughtlove isnt just about good days. Its seen in choices. Lying beside her, silentwhat did that mean?

She didnt know.

That was more frightening than any box.

***

Natalie woke at seven, as usual. Daniel was still asleep. She brewed coffee and drank it standing at the window. Outside, a dreary sleet drifted. North Finchley looked particularly sullen in Marchdirty snow, wet pavement, bare black branches by the Tube.

Her headache had passed. Thank goodness.

She opened the glass cabinet, took out the blue folder, and set it on the dining table. Leafed through: Land Registry printout, stamped. Transfer deed from her father, notarised. Date: 28 February, two years back. Owner: Natalie Jane Orton. Everything in order.

She closed the folder, returned it to its place.

At half past nine, her mum rang from Canterbury. Natalie didnt answer right away, not because she didnt want to, but afraid her voice would betray her.

Mum, hi.

You sound tired

Im alright.

Pause.

Daniel called last night, her mum said. Said theres a row with your mother-in-law.

Natalie shut her eyes.

He called you?

Yes. Hes very upset. Says he doesnt know what to do.

Mum, he needs to decide whose side hes on.

Natalie, her mum paused. Hes not a bad lad. But after thirty years with his mum, you dont change overnight.

I know.

Youre holding up?

Im alright.

If you need me, just say.

Natalie felt her throat tighten. She coughed.

Im fine. Ill manage.

I know, love. Rememberflats yours. Thats not up for discussion.

I know.

She put down the phone. Daniel emerged from the bedroom just after ten. Silently, poured himself coffee. She stood at the window, cradling a book she wasnt reading.

Nat

Yes.

Mum phoned. Shes coming at noon with the tenants. To view.

I heard you yesterday.

Maybe if you met them? You might like them

She turned.

Dan. Youre asking me to let my flat to people Ive never met, on terms discussed without me?

I just Mum went through a lot.

Dan, she was quiet, without anger. Listen to yourself. Its all about her. Not you. Not us.

He set his mug down, rubbed his forehead.

I cant see a way out that doesnt upset her.

And what about upsetting me?

He said nothing.

Natalie turned back to her book, though the lines blurred. She simply needed something to hold.

***

They arrived at half past twelve.

Natalie heard the buzzer. Then Margarets cheerful voice, then the ancient lift rattling up.

Daniel stood by the balcony doors. Natalie sat on the sofa. The blue folder sat in the cabinet.

The doorbell rang.

Daniel made to rise.

Sit, Natalie said.

He sat, looking simultaneously relieved and ashamed.

The bell rang again.

Natalie went to the door and opened it.

Margaret stood in her best winter coat, the one with the silver buttons for church. Behind her, a young couplehe in a fleece, she in a red parkaholding the hand of a boy in a hat with bear ears. The boy studied Nataliesilent, serious.

Natalie, love! Margaret swept inside. This is Mark and Lauraa lovely couple. Marks in building, Lauras home with little Jamie.

Hello, Laura said, awkward. Sorry to turn up unannounced

Its fine, answered Natalie evenly. Come in.

She stepped aside. The boy stayed serious, clutching his mothers hand.

Is Daniel here? Margaret asked, not looking back.

In the front room.

Great. Mark, let me show you aroundplenty of light, two aspects, the Tube a short walkits perfect.

Margaret moved with possession, reeling off details about ceiling height and rewiring. Natalie followed.

Daniel waited by the window, giving the couple a half-smile, unable to meet Natalies eyes.

So, as for rent, Margaret began, I quoted £1,700 a month, but we can discuss

Hold on.

Natalies voice was calm. She went to the glass cabinet, retrieved the blue folder.

Everyone looked at her.

Mark, Laura,” Natalie said. “Before you make any decisions, I want you to see something.

She passed them the first sheet.

This is the Land Registry. Issued last Friday. Look at Registered Owner.

Laura read aloud, Natalie Jane Orton.

My maiden name, said Natalie. That’s me. My father gave me this flat two years ago, three months before my wedding. I am the sole legal owner. Neither my husband nor Margaret has any say.

Laura glanced at Mark, then handed him the paper.

Natalie Margaret began.

Mark, Natalie didnt so much as glance at her mother-in-law, You need the legal owners written agreement to let a property. Ive given none. If you move in on someone elses word, its not legal. Just so you know.

Mark looked back and forth, uncertain. The boy asked a question, muffled into his mothers coat.

We didnt realise Laura began. We were told the owner agreed

The owner stands before you. And she doesnt agree.

A long moment passed.

Well, Mark cleared his throat. Best we go, then. Sorry.

He returned the papers. Natalie accepted them.

Wait, please! Margaret stepped forward, her voice sharpno longer the professional nurses, but her real one. Mark, this is just a misunderstanding. Let me

Margaret, Daniel said unexpectedly.

Everyone looked at him.

He stood by the window, hands in his pockets, speaking quietly but with conviction.

Mum, theyre right. They should go.

Margaret stared at her son.

What?

They should go. Its Natalies flat. I should have said that before.

A silence, thick and uncomfortable.

Laura gathered up her son. Mark nodded. They headed for the door. The front door clicked shut behind them.

Three people remained.

***

Margaret stared at Daniel for an age. Natalie stood, blue folder in hand, waiting.

Daniel. Margarets voice was quiet, dangerous in its chill. Do you realise what you just did?

I do, Mum.

Youve chosen her over me.

Im choosing whats right.

Right. Margaret bit off the word. Right. So Im wrong, am I?

In this caseyes, Mum.

All my life, Ive worked for you. Alone since your father left. Double shifts. Struggled so youd be comfortable.

I know, Mum.

You say you know, but do you? I wanted to help you and Nataliemake things easier. I organised all of this”

You did so without the owners permission, Daniel replied. You didnt ask.

The owner. Margaret looked at Natalie with a hint of contempt. Thats what you are now. Youre husband and wife, a family. Its supposed to be us, together.

Margaret, Natalie replied calmly, Im happy to discuss finances with my husband, within our family. But not when Im presented with ultimatums, or being left out.

Ultimatums! Margaret exclaimed, hands to her temples. You think Id do this for anything but your good?

I believe you want to help. But help thats not asked for isnt help, its interference.

Interference! Margaret turned to Daniel. Do you hear this? This is what she thinks of me.

Mum said Daniel.

No.” Margaret raised her hand. “You choose. Your mother who raised you alone, or this woman who calls me interfering. Choose.

Natalie stayed motionless, watching him. Daniel stood at the centre of the loungethe room with curtains theyd picked together, laughing over the pattern, the bookshelf hed fitted a little crooked, the photograph from their wedding in a white frame.

He looked at his mother.

Im staying, he said quietly.

Margaret didnt understand at first.

What?

Im staying. Here. With Natalie. I love you, Mum, but you cant keep doing this.

I cant?

No. You cant walk into our home unannounced. You cant pack up things that arent yours. You cant promise tenants behind our backs. I should have said it ages ago. Thats on me, too.

Margaret stood still. Then, carefully, she did up her coat, button by button, collecting her bag.

Youll regret it, she said in a low voice. Not as a threatmore like a prophecy.

Perhaps,” Daniel replied. “But right now I need to do whats right.”

She swept out. The front door slammed.

Silence.

***

They stood, Daniel by the window, Natalie by the cabinet, blue folder in hand. One box, taped, stood in the corner.

Outside, sleet fell steadily.

Natalie put the folder away, then sank onto the sofa. Daniel, after a moment, joined her at a slight distance.

Nat, he began.

Wait, she replied.

They sat in silence, Natalie gazing absently at the slightly lopsided bookshelf. Daniel stared at his hands.

I should have put my foot down, he murmured at last. When she called. I should have said, Mum, thats not your business. I didnt.

Why not?

Long silence.

Ive never been able to say no to her. If I try, she doesnt shout; she just goes quiet and looks so hurt. Since I was small, I couldnt handle it. So I give in.

I know, Natalie said softly. Its not easy, Dan. But youre not a little boy anymore.

I know. He nodded. I do know. I just dont know if I did the right thing. WellI do. But shes still my mum.

Shell always be your mum.

Shell be angry now. For ages.

Probably.

And it will hurt.

Yes, Natalie didnt offer false comfort. It will.

He nodded again, running his hand through his hair.

So what now?

I dont know, Natalie admitted. We need to talk. Not today, but soon. About money, about how well manage. Thats one conversation. Margaret is another.

He was quiet again, then asked, Are you angry?

Natalie thoughtreally thought, not just picking the right response, but listening to her heart.

Im tired, she answered. I was angry this morning. Im not now. Im just worn out.

Nat, I

Dan, she turned to him. You did what you should today. She paused. But today is just today. Do you see?

He did, she could tell from his eyes.

I do.

Good.

She looked up again at the crooked shelf, the wedding photograph, the box by the wall.

Shall we unpack? she suggested.

Yes. Lets do that.

***

They unpacked in a comfortable silence. Natalie stripped newspaper from her pans and put them back in the cupboard. Daniel carefully unwrapped the crystal glasses.

The whole place still smelt faintly of Coty LAimantthat scent always lingered. Natalie opened the window to let in the cool March air.

The boy in the bear hat, she thought, was already on his way home, staring out the car window, oblivious to the lives hed brushed against for half an hour.

She reflected on her mothers words: Thirty years hes lived with her. Thats not easy to undo. True. Today, Daniel said no. For the first time.

It didnt mean it would always be easy.

It didnt make everything simple.

Still, it was something.

Natalie put the last saucepan away, folded the newspaper and tossed it in the bin.

Coffee? Daniel offered.

Please.

He headed to the kitchen. Natalie retrieved the photo in its white frame. She studied their facesslightly awkward, she in a dress not quite what shed had in mind, he in a tie hed ditched before dessert. Genuinely smiling.

A year ago.

She set it back.

Fresh coffee wafted from the kitchen. Daniel set two mugs on the table. Sat across from her.

Outside, the wind howled.

They drank in silence. It was a heavy silence, but not emptya silence full of things to be said, only not yet. Natalie felt it, like the cold in her hands that morning.

But for now, words could wait.

Right now there was coffee. An open window. And a slightly wonky bookshelf.

And the blue folder, safe in the cabinet.

***

Itd be nice to say this was the worst of it, that a neat ending was in sight. But Natalie, with five years at Harmon & Co, knew that balance sheets never tie up first go. Numbers dont just fall into placeyou often dig for errors before everything adds up.

Families are like that, too.

Margaret would calltomorrow, maybe next week. She never stormed out forever, just waited for someone to come after her.

Daniel would be torn. That was the truth Natalie could see.

The money problems remained. The lost bonus. The mortgage. All of it.

A conversation lay aheadan honest one, the sort they were only just learning to have, if at all. Maybe today had shifted something.

She couldnt be sure.

Daniel put down his mug.

Nat?

Yes?

Im glad you didnt leave, even when I was beingwell, stupid. Im glad you stayed and made it right.

Natalie looked at him.

I couldnt have done otherwise, she replied quietly. This is my home.

He nodded.

Ours, he said.

She was silent for a long moment.

Yes, she said at last. Ours.

Outside, the weather was easing. The sleet no longer battered the glass. The sky above Muswell Hill looked a little brighternot quite sunny, but less grey.

Natalie cradled her mug. Her coffee was lukewarm. She drank it anyway.