Brought trouble upon myself
“Dad, whats with all the new stuff? Did you raid an antiques shop or something?” Charlotte raised her eyebrows, staring at the white crocheted doily on her dresser. “I never knew you had a thing for old-fashioned knick-knacks. Id say your taste is just like Nana Dorothys…”
“Oh, Charlotte? What are you doing here without a call?” Richard Barrett stepped out of the kitchen. “We er, I wasn’t expecting you”
Dad tried to look energetic, but his eyes gave him awaythey were tinged with guilt.
“Yeah, I can tell you werent,” Charlotte muttered, pursing her lips as she headed to the lounge, bracing herself for further surprises. “Dad Wheres all this stuff come from? What exactly is going on here?”
Charlotte barely recognised her own flat.
When shed first inherited the place from her gran, it was rather miserableoutdated British furniture, a bulky old telly on a battered stand, rusty radiators, peeling wallpaper in places But it was hers, and that was what counted.
By then, Charlotte had saved a modest sum and spent it on a proper renovation, no corners cut. She went with a simple, light Scandi stylebright tones and minimal clutter made the small two-bed feel much roomier. Shed painstakingly chosen curtains, soft rugs, and just the right accents to bring it to life
But now her heavy blackout curtains had been swapped for a plain net curtain. The Italian sofa was buried under a synthetic plush throw with a big snarling tiger on it. On the coffee table was a hideous pink plastic vase with equally awful fake pink roses.
And that wasnt even the worst part. What really unsettled Charlotte were the new smells. From the kitchen came a sizzle of frying oil and a distinct whiff of fish. The flat stank of cigarette smoke tooand her dad didnt smoke
“Charlotte, its a bit complicated” Richard finally managed. “Thing is Im not alone. Meant to tell you earlier, but yeah, didnt quite manage.”
“Not alone? What do you mean?” Charlotte was completely thrown. “Dad, we had an agreement!”
“Darling, you must understand that my life didnt end when your mum and I split. Im still a young man in many ways, nowhere near claiming a pension. Am I not entitled to a personal life?”
Charlotte was speechless. Of course, logically, her dad could see whomever he wantedbut in her own flat?
Her parents had split a year back. Her mum had taken Dads affair in stride, as if freed from a burden, and thrown herself into her hobbies. Shed so many friends that loneliness didnt stand a chance.
Dad, though, was a wreck. Hed returned to his bachelor flat and was horrified at the state of it. Hed let it for ten years, and the last tenant had fallen asleep with a lit cigarette. Dad couldnt afford repairs, so he simply forgot its existence, never sold it but never planned to live there.
It really wasnt fit for living anywaysoot-black walls, smashed windows, mould climbing the sills It looked more like the set of a horror film than anyones home.
“I dont know how Im going to cope, Charlotte” Dad had told her, sighing heavily. “Its probably dangerous to even step inside. Cant see the place habitable before the winter, not without a miracle. I havent anywhere near enough money to sort it all out. Ah well I suppose thats my lot.”
Charlotte couldnt stand it. She simply couldnt let the man whod raised her live in those conditions. And her own flat was sitting emptyshed recently married and moved in with her husband. After Dads dodgy experience with tenants, she certainly wasnt planning to rent it out.
“Stay at mine for a bit, Dad,” shed offered. “Its all done up, every comfort. You can get your place sorted out in your own time, then move back. Theres just one rule: No guests.”
“Really? You mean it?” Dad had asked, astonished. “Charlotte, thank you! Youve saved me, honestly. I promise, itll be quiet and straightforward.”
Well. Quiet.
Just as she recalled their conversation, the bathroom door swung open in a cloud of perfumed steam. Out glided a woman of about fifty, strutting confidently, wearing Charlottes own fluffy dressing gownher favourite. It barely contained the strangers ample figure.
“Oh, Richard, are we entertaining guests?” the woman enquired in a gravelly, tobacco-rough voice, smiling at Charlotte as if she were a child. “Bit of warning wouldve been niceIm hardly dressed for visitors.”
“And you are?” Charlotte asked, narrowing her eyes. “And why in the world are you wearing my dressing gown?”
“Im Denise, your fathers beloved,” replied the woman, looking nonchalant. “Whats got you all wound up? I only borrowed the robe. It was just sitting there doing nothing.”
Charlottes head pounded with fury.
“Take it off. Now,” she spat.
“Charlotte!” groaned her father, stepping between them. “Dont make a fuss! Denise just”
“Denise just put on a strangers clothes in a strangers home!” Charlotte snapped. “Dad, are you serious? You brought your girlfriend here and let her rummage through my stuff?”
Denise rolled her eyes theatrically and flopped down on the tiger throw in the lounge.
“Such terrible manners,” she declared. “If I were Richard, Id have taken you to task, no matter your age. Is this how you talk to your father? His choice to be with another woman is none of your business, young lady.”
Charlotte was stunned. Here was some woman, acting like she owned the place, lecturing her on how to treat her father.
“It isnt my business,” she agreed, “until it takes place in my home.”
“In yours?” Denise arched her brows, glancing at Richard.
He stood against the wall, head sunk between his shoulders, desperately hoping the storm would blow over. But the forecast had just turned.
“Oh Dad forgot to mention that little detail?” Charlotte smiled coldly. “I suppose Id better clarify. Hes a guest here. This flatits mine, every last plate and cushion. I let him stay, but I never imagined hed move his special lady in as well.”
Denise flushed bright red.
“Richard?” her voice chilled to frost. “Whats she on about? You said this was your flat. Did you lie to me?”
Dad shrank even further, wishing the wallpaper would swallow him up.
“No Denise, you misunderstood. Ive property, but not this one. Didnt want to bore you with details.”
“Didnt want to bore me?! Well, thanks! Now because of you I get a lecture from this one.”
Charlottes patience snapped.
“Out,” she said quietly.
“Pardon?” Denise blinked.
“Out. Both of you. You have one hour. If youre still here after that, well be talking legally. Brought trouble upon oneself, isnt that the saying…”
Charlotte marched toward the front door, but Richard finally peeled himself off the wall, hurrying after her.
“Darling! You wouldnt throw your own father out! You know what state my flats inIll freeze to death over there!”
He clung to her sleeve; Charlottes heart wavered, memories and obligations pricking at her conscience, guilt tightening her throat
Then her eyes fell on Denise.
There she sat, legs crossed in Charlottes own dressing gown, glaring at her with pure hatred. That settled it. If she kept quiet now, the woman would change the locks and redecorate by next week.
“Dad, youre a grown man. Rent a place,” Charlotte said, freeing her arm. “You broke our agreementyou were meant to live alone, yet here you are with someone else, letting her parade around in my things, making a mess of my home”
“Oh, keep your precious flat!” Denise pounced. “Come on, Richard. Dont lower yourself. Raised a thankless brat”
Half an hour later, theyd packed up and left. Dad was silent, hunched like a pensioner. Charlotte would never forget the look in his eyeslike a beaten old dog sent out in the rain. But she had the nerve to stick it out.
Once theyd gone, Charlotte flung open the windows, desperate to air out the stench of fish, cigarettes and cheap perfume. She gathered up the dressing gown, throw, and anything Denise had left behind, tossing it all straight in the bin. Next day, she booked a cleaning team and got the locks changed. Touching anything that woman had used was unbearableespecially her.
Four days passed.
Now Charlottes flat was how shed left itno tacky plastic flowers, no foul odours. She still lived with her husband, but just knowing her own place was safe brought peace of mind.
She hadnt spoken to her father since. On the fourth day, her phone buzzed.
“Hello,” she said after a pause.
“So, Charlotte” Dads voice was thick with drink. “Happy now? Pleased with yourself? Denises left me. Packed up and gone.”
“What a surprise,” Charlotte couldnt help but reply. “Let me guessit happened when she saw your actual flat and realised it was a total disaster?”
Dad sniffed miserably.
“Yeah. Put in a little heater, spent three nights on an air bed. She stuck it out for a bit, then said I was a lying pauper, packed up and went to her sisters. Said shed wasted her time But we loved each other, Charlotte!”
“Love? Dad, you wanted somewhere comfortable, and so did she. Thats all. You both miscalculated.”
He fell silent, fighting for words.
“Im lonely, darling,” he finally said. “Its scary here May I come back? I promise, just me this time! Swear it!”
Charlotte glanced away. Her father sat somewhere in a wreck hed built with his own choicescheating on Mum, lying to her, and now conning Denise.
She did feel sorry for him. But pity wouldnt do either of them good.
“No, Dad. Im not letting you back,” Charlotte replied. “Hire some builders, fix your flat. Learn to live in the mess you made. Only thing I can do is recommend some good workers. Sorry. If you need advice, ring me.”
With that, Charlotte hung up.
Harsh? Maybe. But shed had enough of people leaving stains on her dressing gownand her heart. Some messes cant be cleaned; you just dont let them in to begin with.
