not to go out of her way, but she wouldn’t listen. He’d known he’d regret taking the lift. But he couldn’t very well say no, could he? He’d have to let her come in, and then she’d see how he lived. He wanted to curl up and die at the thought.
‘Please?’ she said, grimacing painfully for emphasis. ‘I’m about to have an accident.’
‘If you don’t mind leaving your car here,’ he said, hoping the dodgy neighbourhood would scare her off. ‘There may not be much left of it when you get back.’
‘I’ll have to take my chances,’ she said, turning off the ignition.
‘Okay,’ he said. Play it casual, he told himself. This was where he lived and, as she had said herself, being poor was nothing to be ashamed of. If she insisted on coming in, she would just have to take him as she found him. Besides, she wouldn’t be there long. She wouldn’t have time for a good look around. When she’d used the loo, she’d probably leg it out of there as fast as her lovely long legs would carry her. It wasn’t as if he had to make her tea or anything. Wait … did he have to make her tea?
He opened the front door, studiously ignoring the drunk, who was belting out what sounded like a mash-up of ‘The Fields of Athenry’ and ‘Poker Face’ at the top of his lungs. Once inside, he rolled his eyes at Claire to make a joke of it. He wanted to rush her upstairs so she wouldn’t have time to take in the mangy hall with its noxious smells and hair-raising noises. But he decided to give her a break and knocked on the door of his neighbour, Joseph, a Nigerian, who lived in the first flat with his wife and baby daughter. Joseph stuck his head out in answer to his knock, opening the door fully when he saw who it was.
‘Luca!’ He beamed.
‘Hi, Joseph. Sorry to bother you. Could you do me a favour?’
‘Of course. What can I do for you?’
‘My friend’s just coming upstairs for a minute,’ he said, indicating Claire, who waved hello. ‘She’s left her car out front. Could you watch it for me?’
‘Sure, no problem.’ He smiled at Claire, ducked inside for a moment, then stepped into the hall carrying a huge colourful umbrella and closed the door behind him.
‘Thanks. We won’t be long,’ Luca said, as he led Claire to the stairs.
‘That’s not something to boast about, Luca,’ Joseph said, laughing as he went to the door.
‘Thanks,’ she said, as she followed him up the stairs. ‘For getting him to watch my car. I really can’t afford to lose it.’
Luca shrugged. He wasn’t being entirely altruistic. If anything happened to her car, he’d be stuck with her until she got a taxi.
He lived on the third floor at the top of the house. He took a deep breath outside his door, bracing himself to play it cool. Then he opened it and ushered her in ahead of him, flicking on the light switch as he followed her. Nothing. Oh, shit . His heart sank. He flicked the switch on and off idiotically a few times, as if it was suddenly going to spring back to life, just because he wanted it to. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Claire stood in the centre of the room gazing at him quizzically in the light coming through the window from the street.
‘No electricity. Sorry.’
‘Are you having a blackout or something?’
Lights glowed in the building opposite, and the streetlamps poured yellow rays through the window. Clearly there was no blackout. It was just him – his own personal blackout arranged especially for him by the electricity company. Well, he had been warned – several times. Still, on the bright side, it meant she wouldn’t get a good look at the place – and there was no question of offering her tea. He would get her out quickly, then put on some dry clothes and get under the blankets with the remains of the bottle of whiskey he still had in the cupboard.
‘The lights were on downstairs,’ she said.
‘Sorry, it’s just … It’s been cut off.’
‘Oh.’
‘Well, I