Half past five couldn’t come soon enough. As soon as thestore closed, she was out of the door and heading home. On her way back shepsyched herself up ready to confront her landlord about her heating and hotwater. She knew from past experience it was unlikely to be a cordialconversation.
As soon as she approached the shop doorway, she spotted him.She could hardly miss him, sweaty mound of middle-aged blubber that he was.Entering the chippy, she could see that he was berating one of the youngermembers of staff, a friendly, young Eastern European girl called Anna who hadserved Kay several times in recent weeks.
“Do I make myself clear?” she heard McVie saying in hisfamiliar Scottish twang. “Do I have to get a fucking Polish dictionary andwrite it down for you? It’s two scoops of chips per portion, not three. Are youtrying to put me out of business? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then you canget all your family to come over here and take over my shop, just like your lotare taking over the rest of this country.”
The poor girl nodded her understanding, seemingly on theverge of tears. Turning away, McVie caught sight of Kay, who was standinghorrified at the racist abuse she had just witnessed. Trying to keep hercomposure, she spoke quietly.
“Mr McVie, could I have a quick word, please?”
“Well, well, look what the cat’s dragged in,” replied McVie.“I’ve been waiting for you. I think it’s the other way round, don’t you? It’sabout time I was having some serious words with you. I suggest we go up to theflat.”
The thought of having this revolting excuse for a humanbeing up in her flat wasn’t a pleasant one, but since she was going to have toshow him the malfunctioning heating she didn’t have a lot of choice. Sheunlocked the door and made her way up, hearing his heavy footsteps on thestairs behind her, and his wheezing as he grew short of breath after three orfour steps.
“Nice arse,” he commented. “Shame about the face. Still youdon’t look at the mantelpiece when you’re stoking the fire, do you?” He startedguffawing loudly, as if he had just made the best joke in the world.
She had heard both these phrases before, on some ancientsitcom she had watched one night on ITV4. His pathetic attempts at sexisthumour belonged in the past, along with his racist remarks to Anna. Ignoringthe temptation to say something in retaliation, she tried to take theinitiative as he dragged his flabby frame up the stairs and into her room.
“I’ll come straight to the point,” she said. “My heating andhot water have stopped working.”
“I already know,” he said, with a grin on his face that shedidn’t like the look of one bit. “It was me who turned them off.”
“Why?” she said. “You can’t do that.”
“I can do whatever I like if you don’t pay the rent,” hesaid. “It was due three days ago, and your direct debit was declined by yourbank. Pay up, and I’ll turn the heating back on.”
“I don’t have the money,” said Kay, softly. “I haven’t beenpaid yet. You expect a thousand a month for this flat and it’s daylightrobbery.”
“That’s the going rate, my love,” replied McVie. He wasstanding uncomfortably close to her and the smell of his body odour mixed inwith the all-pervading fishy smell that had permeated his clothes wasoverpowering. On top of that there was his breath which was seriously rank.
“Let me tell you,” he continued. “There are two types ofpeople in this town these days. Those who own property, like me. And those whodon’t, like you. It’s all a case of supply and demand. If you don’t want to paythe market rate, there are plenty of desperate mugs out there that will.”
“A thousand pounds might be the going rate for a decentflat, but look at the state of this place. Nothing works properly, you never doany maintenance, and as for health and safety, you must be joking. I’d like toknow what the authorities would have to say about it. Where’s the smoke alarm?Where’s the gas safety certificate?”
She stopped as McVie advanced towards her, a look of puremenace in his eyes. For a moment she feared he was going to attack her.
“Don’t try getting clever with me, missy,” he said, “or yourfeet won’t touch the floor. You owe me money, and if it’s not paid by ChristmasEve then it’ll be the electricity I’ll be cutting off next. You’ll be cookingyour turkey by candlelight. If you can even afford one, that is.”
“I haven’t got it, and you know it,” replied Kay. “I don’tget paid until next week. I’ve put a huge amount of overtime in this month, soI’ll be more than able to cover it then.”
“That’s no good to me, love,” said McVie. “I’ve got expensesto pay. I’m planning a big trip up to Scotland next week for Hogmanay and Ineed some spends.”
“Please, Mr McVie,” pleaded Kay, despising herself forhaving to grovel to this disgusting man. “Cut me some slack. I’ll be able togive you 800 quid next week. Maybe I could do a few shifts in the shopdownstairs for you to make up the rest.”
“Why should I need you to do that?” said McVie. “I’ve gotplenty of migrant workers that are willing to work for under the minimum wage.No questions asked, no tax, no National Insurance.” He paused, eyeing up Kay’sbody. “You know you may be an ugly cow but you haven’t got too bad a body foryou, considering your age. How old are you? Fifty?”
“I’m forty-three, and what’s that got to do with anything?”Kay was incensed at his comments.
He moved closer, invading her personal space once more,forcing her to shrink back towards the bed.
“You know you wouldn’t be too bad if it weren’t for thoseteeth. Turn around and show me your arse again,” he demanded.
“You can fuck off,” replied Kay, finally snapping andraising her voice. “What the fuck do you think I am?”
“Come off it, love, don’t be shy. I’ve seen
