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[MsBarrows]

David fought back a yawn and struggled to a more upright position in his seat as the bus took a sharp left off of the highway. At least is was daylight now; the last stop had been in the grey pre-dawn at a closed bus terminal, where they'd lost one passenger and taken on two more, the bus stopping only just long enough for the driver to stow the luggage underneath and board the new people. It had been like that all night, ever since David had switched from the cross-country express to this local jitney at a city bus terminal late the evening before. Miles of darkened highway, with just occasional pools of brighter light as they flashed past a 24-hour rest area, and occasional detours down winding side roads to the small towns dotted here and there in the foothills.

They'd left the foothills and climbed well up into the mountains some time since he'd last been aware of the scenery outside; the road was lined with patches of trees, vast stony cliffs rearing up behind them on the left of the bus, while on the right there was a steep downhill slope. He could see a glitter of water somewhere down slope, and ahead... houses. The bus did another left and then three rights, circling a small block lined with old houses, before pulling to a squealing stop in front of a small municipal building.

"All out for Pentland! Pentland stop!" the driver called out in a bored voice. David hurriedly rose to his feet, yanking his briefcase off of the overhead rack and moving to the front of the bus as the driver opened the doors and hurried down the steps.

The morning air was cool after the heated interior of the bus - it was still early spring, after all - and David felt himself waking more fully as the driver opened the luggage compartments and hauled out his single bag. "Thanks," he said, picking it up as the driver rapidly closed the compartment. The man responded with a grunt and a nod before hurrying back onto the bus, pulling away from the curb again before the door had even finished closing.

David looked around. The streets were deserted, not a soul in sight. Spotting a nearby street sign, he walked over and peered up at it, then put down his briefcase and suitcase to dig in his pocket, carefully unfolding a sheet of paper worn from much handling and comparing the address on it to the street name. He smiled in relief - the road the bus had followed into town, and dropped him off on, was the street he needed. And they must have passed the address coming into town, as none of the buildings on this short stretch of it was residential.

He crossed both ways at the lights, and walked back towards the distant highway. The building wasn't far; fourth from the corner, and the second last one before the town ended and the forested landscape began. He stopped, putting down his suitcase and looking up at it, surprised by its size. It was a big Victorian house, with a tower on one corner. The porch railing, door, and windows were all topped by panels of decorative stained glass - in the shape of roses, red ones. (0001)

He walked hesitantly towards the front door. Should he knock? Or just let himself in? He was still pondering the question when a car pulled up to the curb behind him, the driver giving the horn a light tap that made him jump. Moments later the front door swung open, and a well-dressed young man hurried out of the house and down the porch stairs, pausing as he saw David blocking the front walkway.

"Are you David?" he asked, and at David's nod of surprised agreement, grinned widely and shook his hand in greeting. "James said he thought you'd likely arrive some time this week. He's going to be insufferable about being right." (0002)

The car driver honked his horn again. The young man frowned. "I have to run, that's my car pool... I'm William Kennit, one of your tenants. We'll have time to talk once I get home this afternoon. Robin can get you sorted out until then," he added, and turned towards the house, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Robin! He's here!" he called towards the second floor, then hurried off to the waiting vehicle, waving casually at the house "Just go on in, she'll be right down," he called back over his shoulder.

"Thanks," David called, then added "I think," under his breath as William got into the car and it roared off. Retrieving his suitcase, he walked into the house.

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[MsBarrows]

The hallway was well-lit, finished in dark woods and a beige patterned wallpaper. David had only just time to glance around before he heard steps hurrying down the stairs, and a pretty young woman with pale skin and wavy short black hair came into sight, casually dressed in a loose white hoodie and green cargo pants (0003). As she reached the bottom and turned to face him, smiling, he saw that she had bright blue eyes. A faint sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose was the only mark on her otherwise flawless porcelain complexion.

"David?" she inquired.

"Yes," he answered. "Are you Robin?" (0004)

"Yes, that's me," she said, her smile widening, and held out her hand to shake his. "Robin Warden. By his bellow, I take it you met William on your way in?" she asked, then continued without waiting for an answer. "I suppose I'd better show you to your room. It's upstairs, at the back," she explained, already turning away to head back up the stairs.

He followed her up. The stairs brought them up to the inner corner of an L-shaped hallway, one arm running along the front of the house, while another reached toward the back, parallel to the stairs. It must be directly over the downstairs hallway, he realized.

"That's William's room to the left," Robin explained. "That door at the end leads into a small bathroom in the tower. Door out to the front balcony, then this door is my room. End of the hall is the main bathroom."

"Then this one must be mine," David said, stepping to the only door she hadn't named, second on the left as he faced towards the back.

"Correct," she said, and followed him as he opened it and stepped inside. (0005)

It was a sizable room, furnished with dark, heavy wooden furniture and faded striped wallpaper. It smelled mainly of cleansers, with a faint undertone he could only categorize as "old man" - a faint hint of aftershave, hair oil, dust, flatulence, and unwashed socks.

"The mattress and bedding are new," Robin explained, looking around the room, a faint frown on her face. "As are the covers on the loveseat cushions. And James took care of sorting through and getting rid of most of the personal belongings already."

"James?"

"Upstairs tenant. You might meet him this evening, if he isn't otherwise engaged."

David frowned in thought. "I didn't see another stairway...?" he said questioningly.

"Private entrance," she said, and gestured towards the single window in the wall beyond the bed. "His stairs double as a fire escape for your room and mine."

He walked over and looked out. Sure enough, a rusted metal staircase wound up the side of the building. He frowned, then gestured at the bare windows. "No drapes?" he asked.

"There were, but when we took them down to wash them the fabric turned out to be perished - pretty much fell apart in shreds as soon as they were disturbed. I don't think your great-uncle had done more then dust them for years and years."

He looked around the room again. "Well. I guess I'd better get settled in," he said.

Robin nodded. "Knock on my door if you have any questions," she said, and started to turn away, then paused. "He left you instructions," she added, gesturing at the desk positioned under the row of windows looking out past another balcony and over the back yard of the house.

"Thanks," David called after her as she left.

He stepped over to the desk (0006). The sheet of instructions were obvious, a page of yellowed paper positioned directly under the desk lamp, covered in text in a fine old-fashioned copperplate hand. Several leather-bound ledgers rested on the desk, alongside a surprisingly new and high-powered computer. He picked up the sheet, and ran his eyes down it, muttering aloud as he read it.

"Two tenants... Two? Thought it was three... rents due monthly... cook, clean, maintain the yard and gardens, Robin knows where things are kept... and remit 10% of the rents to... oh, so he's not actually a tenant," David muttered, surprised, glancing up at the ceiling. "Not to be bothered in the daytime as he works nights. Fine. Can do," he said, and put the paper back down. He'd give it a more thorough reading later. For now, he might as well get his things put away, and then go find the kitchen and see about getting himself on the outside of some breakfast. (0007)

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[silverpole]

Vaaaaaaampire.
Also, I will be enthusiastically stalking this thread. Yay, new MsB story! :D

[fizz bomb]

your here :D

huggles

interesting

[cadiva]

Looking forward to seeing where this is going Msb :)

[deagh]

Glad to see you have posted this, although you told me in chat :D

Looking forward to seeing how this develops. :)

[MsBarrows]

Welcome all, and I hope you'll all enjoy this latest story of mine. I'm going for just plain storytelling this time, no legacy or challenge rules apply. I plan for this to be a loosely-connected series of stories revolving around a central core of recurring characters, plus occasional self-contained side stories about other characters, some of which I may set up as site stories rather then posting directly to the forums. We'll see! :)

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The kitchen proved to be both large and clean, smelling of nothing worse then other people's cooking odours. It was a long, narrow room, the walls covered in white subway tile with off-white paint above, and lined with dark wood cabinets with speckled granite countertops. The fridge and stove were a little dated looking, but well-maintained and clean. Poking around in cabinets turned up some cereal, and he decided that would do him for breakfast until he'd had time to find out from Robin how the cooking and grocery buying was handled. (0008)

He carried his bowl through to the dining room, pausing in the door to whistle quietly. A large glass-topped table filled most of the room, surrounded by antique chairs upholstered in a cream and beige fabric that was a decent match for the wallpaper on the walls. Ornate cream and gold drapes lined the windows. He wondered if they were in good shape, or as perished as the drapes in his room had turned out to be. He sat and ate his breakfast, gazing around the room (0009). It didn't have much in the way of furnishings apart from the table and chairs; a chess table tucked in one corner, and a dart board against the opposite wall, small holes in the wallpaper and wainscotting giving mute witness that decades of tenants had made use of the entertainment it provided.

Eating didn't take long, and it wasn't long before he returned to the kitchen to clean up after himself, putting the empty bowl in the dishwasher and wiping clean the bit of counter where he'd prepared the simple meal. Then he went out the kitchen door to the back porch to look around the yard. (0010)

The back yard was much smaller then he'd have expected a house this size to have, barely more then a postage stamp, overlooked by other buildings. A paved patio occupied a large chunk of it, the rest given over to scraggly grass and a large weeping willow. A small garden bed lurked in the shadows under the tree, green sprouts of something rising up from regular mounds. He wandered over and checked; tomato plants, he thought, and badly in need of watering by the dryness of the soil. He shook he head as he located a water tap and watering can, and took care of it; whomever had placed the garden hadn't known much about growing things. A tree that size would have filled all the nearby soil with a dense mat of fine rootlets, forming a sponge that would suck nutrients and water from the soil and starve out other plants, even if they did manage to get enough sun in the tree's shade. Too late to do anything about it this year though. (0011)

The plants taken care of, he returned to the house, stopping to rinse his hands at the kitchen sink before resuming his exploration. Not that there was much left to explore; apart from the private bedrooms of the tenants and the bathrooms, the only room left to see was the living room. It occupied fully half of the ground floor, decorated in the same dark wood furniture as his room upstairs, an old console TV and matching wood-cased stereo system complete with record player giving some hint as to the age of the furnishings. (0012)

After puttering around for a few minutes straightening cushions and fingering the curtains - the fabric proved elderly but in good condition - and browsing through the titles on the bookshelves, he sat down and looked silently around.

Not a bad house, not at all. And all his now, thanks to the great-uncle he'd only met once in his life, and that years ago. He still wondered what had possessed Uncle Padraig to name him as heir to the boarding house that Padraig had run for most of his very long life; not that he was going to complain, not when he'd been at loose ends anyway, with no job and no prospects of one, and almost no savings left either. Even if it did mean being stuck away in this remote town in the middle of nowhere, at least it was a place to live, and an income to live on. Things could have been be worse. Things had been worse, before the lawyer's letter arrived, informing him of the inheritance.

Though he did find himself wondering about that 10% of the rents to be remitted to the non-tenant in the attic flat. Perhaps it was time to give that page of instructions and the papers from the lawyer both a more thorough reading; it sounded as if things might not be as cut-and-dried as he'd initially assumed.

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[MsBarrows]

David spent the rest of the morning going over the legal papers, then made himself a quick lunch and spent some time arranging and re-arranging his few possessions in the room. Robin had disappeared at some point - off to whatever her job was, he supposed - and it was late afternoon before he finally heard someone else stirring in the house, as William returned from work.

"Robin get you all settled in?" William asked jovially as David came down the stairs to the ground floor.

"Showed me to my room, at least," David said. "But she'd disappeared by the time I'd thought of some questions I wanted to ask her."

William nodded. "She's at the dance studio most afternoons," he said. "Give me a minute to go and change out of this suit, and then I'll see what I can manage to answer, okay?"

"Sure, I'll wait for you in the living room," David agreed.

They were deep in conversation, William explaining that David was responsible for buying the groceries out of his share of the rents, and that anything in the fridge or cupboards with initials written on it in magic marker were someone's personal snack purchases, when they heard the front door open. A slender young man with tousled blond hair entered the room.

"William," he said, nodding in greeting at him, then turned his smile on David. "And you must be David. Hi, I'm James... James Richard Erickson, to give you the whole of it." (0013)

David hurriedly rose to his feet, and shook his hand. He was very blond, with a pale Nordic complexion and light green eyes. He had a wispy bit of beard on his chin paired with a slender moustache, and an engaging smile revealing even white teeth.

"Pleased to meet you," David told him.

"The same," James said, his smile widening slightly. "I'd have known you for Padraig's kin even if we hadn't been expecting you - you have quite the look of him."

"Really?" David said, surprised. He certainly hadn't noticed any resemblance in any photos he'd ever seen of the older man; but then, he'd barely known him, apart from in photos."

"Yes," James assured him, then sank down into a nearby armchair, looking entirely relaxed and at ease. "Somewhere or another there's a photo of him as young man - you'd see the resemblance the most in that. The shape of the face and the way you carry yourself, mainly."

"Oh," David said, resuming his own seat. "Well. I have some questions I should ask you..."

James nodded, then glanced at William. "William, could you do us a favour and cook tonight? I'm expecting someone over this evening so I don't have much time..."

"Of course," William said agreeably. "Will you be eating with us?"

"Sure," he answered, smiling broadly, and watched him leave before turning his attention back to David. "Now, where would you like to start?"

"Well, I just want to ask you about this percentage of the rent that's due you..."

James smiled. "Oh, that. Padraig needed some financial help some years back... I was able to provide it, in return for a part-share of the house, most of which I take in the shape of my apartment. The 10% is considered to cover the remainder."

"So you're a co-owner of the property."

"Yes. I don't think we ever officially registered the property that way, neither of us really saw the need for all the extra paperwork, but I've got a contract somewhere upstairs with all the details, and of course Padraig's lawyer is well aware of it and should have informed you."

"He mentioned it, yes," David admitted. "I'd wondered about the exact terms, since I'm still not entirely sure of my own plans... whether to stay, or to sell the property..."

"You'd need my consent for that," James said calmly. "And whomever you sold it to would have to meet with my approval, since I've no intention of giving up my share or of moving."

David nodded. "Fair enough, I guess," he said. "And like I said, I'm not sure of what my future plans are, anyway - I might well decide to stay on here. At least for a while."

"Good. I think you'll like it - we're a pretty small town, but there's a lot of good people living here. And the occasional bad apple, I'll admit, but not many of them," he added with a grin.

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Robin arrived home just as William was setting the food on the table, and was obviously pleased to see James joining them for dinner. It was a pleasant meal, with her carrying much of the conversation as she talked about her day at the dance studio and what some of her younger students had been up to during class. (0014)

"I'm so glad I have such a short commute," she added, then shook her head at William. "I don't know how you manage it, travelling an hour each way to work. It would drive me mad."

William smiled as he pushed his food around on his plate, then shrugged. "I could live closer to work, but I like it here," he said. "It's worth the commute."

After the meal, David and William settled down to a game of chess together, with Robin watching and chatting with the two of them while they played. David found himself enjoying the company very much; it had been a long time since he'd last felt so relaxed around comparative strangers. (0015)

A feminine squeal and giggle from outside drew all their attention to the nearby windows.

"Sounds like James' guest has arrived," Robin said dryly, then turned back to watching the chess game, pointedly ignoring the sounds of some pretty heavy kissing going on just outside.

William snorted, then glanced at David, an amused smile on his face. "You'll get used to it," he said cryptically, before resuming play.

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He was just going to bed later that evening, feeling well-tired-out by his first day in his new home, when he heard footsteps reverberating down the metal stairs outside. They stopped just outside his window. A delighted laugh made him look that way, spotting James enthusiastically kissing his girlfriend good-night on the fire escape. (0016)

"Definitely need to buy some drapes," he muttered to himself, turning over on his side and yanking the sheets up higher before reaching out to flick off the light.

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[deagh]

Yeah, I'd be wanting some drapes too :lol:

I do intend to mostly lurk, because I knows things, I does (much the same reason you mostly lurk in my stories, I would imagine) but I just wanted to reiterate that I'm glad to see you here. :)

[MsBarrows]

"A place where you could buy drapes?" Robin said. "Hrmm... well, the only place that might have some that I can think of offhand is the thrift store. If they don't carry them then your only other choice is to order something online. Or a trip to the city."

David nodded. "Thanks, Robin," he said. "Guess I'll go check the thrift store then."

It wasn't hard to find; it turned out to be just around the corner, a two-storey brick building that had clearly seen better days, tucked in behind the coffee shop that occupied the corner lot. (0017)

Inside, it was packed with the usual eclectic mix of things found in thrift stores and dollar stores everywhere (0018); lots of mass-produced odds and ends, mostly quite cheaply made. Odds and ends of boxed or canned groceries with long shelf lives, mostly in brands he'd never seen before. An assortment of odd snack foods, bargain-basement craft supplies, brightly-decorated paper plates and plastic cups (0019), basically anything and everything that someone might need on short notice and not want to make the hour-long trip into the nearest place with real shopping to purchase.

Upstairs, he found racks of clothing, mainly seconds and thin, cheap t-shirts, and in a pile on one shelf, some inexpensive fabric blinds, mostly in colours that were either eye-blinding or drab. He quickly settled on drab; chartreuse, hot pink, and international orange were not colours he could imagine wanting to wake up to the sight of. Drab brown striped fabric was much more tolerable.

He managed to find enough for his expanse of windows, and carried the slightly dusty stack of them downstairs to pay for them. The woman behind the cash register gave him a cheerful smile as he put the pile down on the counter.

"Found everything you were looking for?" she asked as she rang up his purchase.

"Yes, I did, thanks," he assured her.

"Great. You're a new face - just passing through, or are you a new resident?" she asked as she bagged his purchase and handed it over to him.

"New resident."

"Oh? Would you be Padraig's great-nephew then?" she exclaimed questioningly. (0020)

He was surprised that she'd so easily guessed who he was, then reminded himself that this was a very small town; undoubtedly pretty much everyone had know his great-uncle.

"Yes, I am," he acknowledged.

"He was such a nice man - I was so sad to hear of his passing. Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself; I'm Heather Graham."

"Pleased to meet you," he said, putting down his shopping bag to shake her outstretched hand. "I'm David West."

She smiled. "Glad to meet you, as well - I hope you'll be a regular customer, Mr West."

Another customer approached the counter to pay for his goods, so David said something non-committal in agreement, then headed back home to see about hanging his new blinds.

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[MsBarrows]

David had soon settled into the beginnings of a routine with the house. He'd sleep in as long as he wanted, as he wasn't responsible for breakfasts - William usually just grabbed a bowl of cereal before heading out to catch his car pool, and was perfectly capable of pouring milk over cereal himself, and Robin, with her varying start times to her work, was as likely to be sleeping in herself as not. If the weather was fine, he'd putter around in the yard to start; weeding and watering the patch of tomato plants, trimming the bushes, and dead-heading the flower beds. He was also hoping to do something about the general shagginess of much of the lawn, and fill in the bare patches where standing water, or soil- and light-conditions had conspired to kill off the grass.

Then he'd have lunch, usually by himself, but occasionally joined by Robin, if she wasn't working until afternoon. Those were invariably pleasant meals; she had a never-ending store of amusing anecdotes about her students and the dancers she worked with, and a wry sense of humour that David enjoyed.

Afternoons, in the hours where he had the house pretty much to himself, he'd clean, then spend some time on his own pursuits until William got home. He and William had gotten into the habit of hanging out together for a while once he was home from work, watching sports shows on TV or just talking about their day.

Once Robin got home he'd make supper for the three of them, while Robin and William played chess together, a game they both took with a level of seriousness that David couldn't muster; he'd occasionally play against one or the other of them, and invariably be soundly beaten, sometimes in a distressingly low number of moves.

James, for all that he had a fully equipped kitchen of his own upstairs and wasn't technically a tenant, often joined them for dinner; he didn't like cooking for just himself, he claimed. Occasionally he even showed up and joined David for breakfast. In particular, he seemed to have a knack for appearing whenever David made pancakes; after being startled the first couple of times that James soundlessly appeared at his elbow as he was pouring the batter into the pan, David got used to it, and came to expect that the sizzle of batter touching the griddle would summon James as if out of the woodwork.

"I always though Padraig had the best hand with pancakes," James enthused one morning, "His recipe was so light and buttery - yours is like his, but somehow made even better," he exclaimed, and used the edge of his fork to cut another bite free from the steaming stack on his plate. (0021)

David grinned, flattered by James' obvious enjoyment. "My mother's secret recipe," he said. "Though I recall she said she'd adapted it from a recipe she'd been taught by her grandmother, and seeing as that was Padraig's mother, there's likely a relation between the two recipes, assuming he learned cooking from her as well."

"That he did," James said, nodding in agreement. "I can remember him saying how lucky he was that his mother had believed her boys as well as the girls should learn kitchen skills; many was the bachelor miner who couldn't do more then boil coffee, stew tea, and burn toast. It was his cooking as much as anything that kept him in tenants, in the early years; back then this house held a lot more then just three tenants. The upstairs bedrooms were lined with as many cots as could be squeezed in, and the miners slept in shifts, same as they worked. But that was back when Pentland was a boom town; men were glad of having anywhere to sleep and eat, so they could work down the mine."

"What did they mine here, anyway," David asked curiously. "Gold?"

James laughed. "No! Well, occasionally they'd hit a small seam of it, but there was never enough of it in this area to be worth mining for specifically. No, it was nickle, copper and iron they primarily got here, with some cobalt and precious metals. The town is named for it; the ore bodies were mainly pentlandite, a nickle-iron ore."

"And then the mines played out?"

James shrugged. "Not entirely. But the more easily-reached ore bodies were gone, and while there was still plenty of ore down the main mine, where they'd dug deep, the values of the metals took a big nose-dive, and the owner decided to shut down the mine until prices recovered enough to make it economically viable to re-open. And by the time that happened, the old man had passed away, and his children couldn't agree over who owned what or in what shares... well, let's just say the mine has been kept shut by the lawyers ever since."

"Ouch. That can't have been good for the town's economy."

"No, it wasn't. There was also a lot of logging done in the area, but since it was mainly rather short-sighted clear-cutting, that eventually ended too. There's still a few patches of the old forest left, but they're protected; there's a reforestation project going on now, but it'll be decades, if not lifetimes, before this area is economically viable for lumbering again. And in the meantime the mountainsides are mainly bare and prone to erosion and landslides. These days this is a quiet backwater, a bedroom community for the larger towns and city to the west of here, and a vacation spot in summer - it's still quite pretty down around the lake. We have a modest community of artists and writers that have settled here - it being cheaper to live here then in the city," James added, a glint of humour in his eyes. "And there's the retirees, men that used to work down the mine, and their wives. Not many younger people; we don't have the facilities to attract families - kids have to be bused to school, and we don't have a real grocery store, or much in the way of shopping. Only people that like the solitude bother to stay."

David nodded.

"So... are you liking it here?" James asked cautiously as he pushed his empty plate away.

"So far, yes," David responded, and was surprised to realize he meant it.

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[MsBarrows]

David had decided it was time to do something about his hair. While he'd been vagabonding around the country in search of work, before the lawyer's letter caught up with him, he'd let it grow out, saving himself the cost of barbering. But now that he was settled and had some money in his pockets again, it was time to do something about the shaggy tail of it.

When asked about local barbering, James shook his head. "No barber shop, as such, but there is a hair salon just up the street - across from where the bus stops. You can get anything done there, from basic cuts to extensions. They'll even perm or colour, if that's your thing."

"Just a cut is all I'm after," David assured him, and later that day took a walk up the street in search of the hair salon.

It was easily found, a two story house on the main street that had been converted into a business. Judging by the vintage of the sign out front, it had been there since before David himself was born. (0022)

The inside turned out to be considerably more modern then he'd expected, the walls painted in a bright pattern of red, black, and orange, with colourful disco lights and loud music blaring away. A bored looking young man, clearly part-alien, stood behind the counter. "Can I help you?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the music. (0023)

"Yes, I need to get a hair cut... do I need to book an appointment?" he asked.

"Only if you don't want it done right now."

"Now is great."

The young man nodded, then cupped his hands around his mouth. "Jane! Customer!" he called, looking beyond David.

David turned and saw a couple of hairdressing stations through a large archway. One was occupied, a teenage girl having something arcane done to her hair by a dark-haired young man that involved twists of foil and bowls of oddly-coloured goo. A young woman was standing at the other chair. She had long dark red hair, caught in two loose braids, and was wearing a brightly-coloured blue and green outfit, with torn black lace leggings and clunky boots. She waved him over.

As he walked over he noticed how green her eyes were; not a bright green, but not a dark green either. She smiled welcomingly and gestured for him to take a seat.

"What can we do for you today?" she asked as she leaned forward, pumping up the chair. "Wash, trim, style...?" (0024)

He noticed that she, like Robin, had a dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose, and very fair skin. Distracted, it took him a moment to remember she'd asked him a question, and come up with an answer. "A cut. I prefer my hair a lot shorter then this," he responded, gesturing at the tail.

She nodded, and efficiently stripped off the hair elastic, finger-combing it out to judge the length and texture. She smiled. "Your hair is in great condition," she said. "And with this length there's a lot of leeway in style. Any preferences?"

He shrugged. "Short back and sides, longer on top... something easy to maintain, is all I really care about. I'll trust you to make it look good."

She smiled. "Good. Sideburns or no sideburns..." she mused, and stepped behind him to sweep back most of his hair, looking thoughtfully at his reflection in the mirror. "Sideburns, yes," she said decisively.

She efficiently draped a cloth over him, then set to work, first using a water spray and comb to moisten his hair, before going to work with her scissors, wisps of his hair drifting down around the base of the chair. He closed his eyes and relaxed, enjoying the feel of her working over his head.

"Just a touch of gel to finish it," she said after a while. He opened his eyes to find her rubbing something over her hands, then she ran her fingers through his hair again, making the top portion stand up a little. "There," she said, sounding pleased. "All done!"

She whipped out a mirror and showed him the cut. He grinned, pleasantly surprised by how good the new style looked. (0025)

"That's great!" he enthused. "How much do I owe you?"

She grinned. "See Oscar at the cash - it's §40 for the style, but if you come in for maintenance cuts that'll be less, only §20 - you'll need a touch-up every month or two, if you want to keep it this style. And you'll need to buy some gel to keep it up, which you can buy here or over at the thrift shop. We carry a better brand, of course."

He nodded, thanked and tipped her, then went and paid for the cut and a container of hair gel.

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•  0023.jpg   71.66K   60 downloads
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•  0025.jpg   58.38K   75 downloads

[MsBarrows]

David stepped out of the house and looked up at the sky. The seemingly endless rains of spring finally seemed to be clearing up; today, for once, the sky was clear and sunny, and the day warm enough to give clear indication of the approach of summer. He smiled, then noticed a newspaper from yesterday sitting abandoned on the porch. He picked it up and walked over towards the side of the house, where the composter and garbage bin were located.

A giggle drew his attention. Glancing over, he noticed it was James in a deep clinch with someone - and whomever it was, was not the girlfriend David had seen him with previously (0026). James must have broken up with the previous one, he thought.

At least, he thought that until he happened to look out the window one evening and spot James wrapped up with the original girlfriend again, with no signs of any coolness in their relationship (0027). He quickly came to realize that the steps and voices he heard traipsing up and down the fire escape outside his window were rarely the same person twice in a row.

After that, it somehow didn't even surprise him when he realized that it wasn't just girlfriends that James was entertaining. (0028)

One evening, over a game of chess with William - who was soundly trouncing him, as usual - he made a comment about how he now knew what William had meant about how he'd "get used to it".

William snorted and smiled. "You're lucky, you just have them going by your window a couple of times a day, and you might not even be in there at the time. As for me... well, my bedroom is right under his." (0029)

"Ouch. 'Nough said."

"Yeah," William said, nodding, a rueful expression on his face. "Oh, and checkmate. Again."

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•  0029.jpg   53.63K   56 downloads

[Audrey May]

Best of luck with your new story, MsB. :)

:eek: James needs his own place! :lol:

[deagh]

AudreyMay said:

Best of luck with your new story, MsB. :)

:eek: James needs his own place! :lol:

Well, he does own that apartment, so it *is* his place :) However, might want to consider investing in some heavy duty soundproofing, though. :)

[MsBarrows]

deagh said:

Well, he does own that apartment, so it *is* his place :) However, might want to consider investing in some heavy duty soundproofing, though. :)

:rofl:

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David cursed as he spotted the hole in the lawn. His efforts to improve the look of the lawn weren't going to do much good when the neighbourhood strays were regularly digging holes in it in the middle of the night. He sighed, and went off to fetch his shovel to repair the worst of the damage; he'd have to remember to sprinkle some grass seed there next time he was touching up the bare patches. Shade-tolerant seed, by preference, given how close it was to a towering elm.

He was almost finished filling in the hole when he heard footsteps approaching him from behind, coming close then stopping.

"Well, if it isn't short-back-and-sides,longer-on-top," a warm voice said. "How's the style holding up?" (0030)

He straightened with a grin, abandoning his shovel and the hole as he turned to smile at woman who'd cut his hair. "I think it's still looking pretty good," he told her.

"Mmmm, so it is. I figure you have at least three more weeks, maybe four, before you'll need to start thinking about a maintenance trim," she said.

"So, what brings you to this part of town?" he asked.

"Other then it being a stone's throw from my salon? I like to take a walk after lunch, if I don't have someone booked in. There aren't all that many places to walk in this town, as you may well have noticed. Today was my day to randomly decide to walk west, instead of east, south, or north."

"What about southeast?" he asked with mock solemnity. (0031)

"No good, there's a fence and a house in the way," she said gravely.

"Northwest?"

"Apartment building. Granted there are some rather scenic trees behind it, I'd have to come west first to reach them anyway."

"Mmmhmmm. And southwest?"

"Well, there's a very pretty path down to the lake, but I have to go south first to reach it."

"I won't ask about northeast, since as I recall there's a rather sizable pair of buildings on that side of the street."

The two of them grinned at each other and laughed, having enjoyed their mutual silliness.

"I hope you don't mind me saying I hope that west is a frequent choice of yours," he said. "I certainly wouldn't mind seeing your lovely face passing by." (0032)

"Oh-ho! Flattery will get you nowhere... Mr West," she said, her eyes twinkling with humour at the inadvertent coincidence between direction and name.

He burst out laughing, amused as well. "I set myself up for that one, didn't I?" he asked ruefully, then frowned. "Except I don't recall actually introducing myself to you."

"Oh, please, I'm a hairdresser in a microscopically small town. I knew your name, description, and vital statistics before you ever even walked in the door of the salon."

"Well, I think we need to be properly introduced - it's not fair, as I don't know your name at all. Mine, of course, is David Patrick West, and you're welcome to call me David or Dave instead of Mr West. Mr West is my father, not me," he finished with a smile.

"David or Dave? What about Pat, or Rick?"

He shuddered theatrically. "Please! I hate the name Pat, and Rick is only marginally better - and both have too many pop culture references for me to want to be called by them. I am neither androgynous nor apt to burst into a rousing chorus of Never Going To Give You Up. And now that I've introduced myself to you, it's your turn to reciprocate."

She smiled. "No possible nicknames for me, I'm just Jane. Jane Royce," she said, reaching out to shake his hand. "That's J-a-n-e, not Jayne-with-a-y or Jain-with-an-i or Jen or Jan or Janet - just plain Jane."

David smiled, resisting the urge to tell her that with her looks and style of dress she would never be 'just plain Jane'. He suspected she'd likely heard that one before.

"Well, plain Jane, do you need to continue your walk right now, or could I entice you to cut it short and join me indoors for some light conversation now that we've been properly introduced?"

"I think I'd like that," she said. "Though I can't stay for too long - I have a colour-and-perm to do starting in a little under an hour."

The two went indoors, and spent a pleasant half hour sitting in the living room, talking at random about their interests, which proved to have a fair amount of overlap. It was the most enjoyable conversation that David could remember having in... well, a long enough period of time that he couldn't come up with a number of months. (0033)

It was getting close to the time when Jane would have to leave, when James wandered into the room. His face lit up at the sight of Jane ensconced on the sofa beside David.

"Jane!" he exclaimed, hurrying forward to greet her. She returned his smile with equal warmth, rising to her feet in time to grasp his hands and accept a quick kiss on both cheeks (0034). "I wasn't expecting to see you here," he said, smiling warmly at her. "How are you, my dear?"

"I'm absolutely faaaaaabulous, of course," she said, in a drawling nasal quite unlike her normal tone, then laughed and grinned again, dropping the affected manner to return to her normal voice. "And how's yourself? Not bouncing in and out of too many beds, I hope?"

He laughed. "No, only mine... over and over again."

She shook her head, and sighed, as if in great disappointment. "You never change."

"Of course not, darling baby girl-chick honey sweetie-pie - I wouldn't be me if I changed! Admit it, you'd be shocked if I changed."

"Well... maybe. Okay, yes, I would be. Deeply and terribly shocked. Oh, heavens, and I need to run, or I'll be late for my 3 o'clock. Call me next time you have a moment between bed bounces, okay?"

"Sure, sweetie," he said.

She started to leave, then stopped and turned back to smile warmly at David. "I enjoyed this afternoon very much," she told him. "I'll be sure to choose West again some time soon," she said with a wink that made the capital W even more obvious then her tone of voice did. "See you two!" she called over her shoulder as she spun around again and hurried off out the door.

James watched her leave, then threw himself down in a lopsided sprawl in the nearby armchair, leaning on one arm of it and hooking his leg over the other. "So you've met our Jane then?" he asked casually.

"Yes," David responded. "She's the one who cut my hair a few weeks ago. And now I'd better go and get supper started - I want to make a pot of chili, and it'll need to simmer for a while," he excused himself, and hurried off to the kitchen.

But he knew it was just an excuse to get away from James. He had to admit it to himself - he was already smitten with Jane, and jealous of the easy friendship he'd seen between her and James... especially when James seemed to have all the morals of a cat in heat.

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[wordlesswriter]

awe, poor David. I hope his jelousey doesn't prevent things from developing with Jane.
two words for William : ear plugs. XD

[cadiva]

MsBarrows said:

He shuddered theatrically. "Please! I hate the name Pat, and Rick is only marginally better - and both have too many pop culture references for me to want to be called by them. I am neither androgynous nor apt to burst into a rousing chorus of Never Going To Give You Up.

I just snorted my Coke Zero thank you very much MsB :rofl:

[deagh]

Cadiva said:

I just snorted my Coke Zero thank you very much MsB :rofl:

Yeah, Coke Zero almost went out my nasal orifices when I read that, too, especially since that gave me an earworm of it for at least an hour - so I effectively got a verbal RickRoll. :D

[fizz bomb]

shhh we are showing our ages :rofl: :rofl: :rofl: