C: Diary Three

Dear Diary,

How very kind of the authorities. They knew that I needed a change of
scenery and have brought me most delightfully to the Isle of Wight. How
appropriate! It was here that Queen Victoria came to mourn the loss of
her beloved Albert (he had that male thing named after him) - and here
am I to spend my hols. What a whizz!

Sea air is splendid but my frequent suggestions of walks for me and the
guys have so far met only with an odd look from the governor chappie.
It'd do us all a lot of good if we could go for a wander up to
Blackgang Chine and see the different coloured sands.

Wozza was very unhappy that I was to go on this little jaunt but he got
me to wriype, was covered in grime. The
cobwebs in the corners were well established.

"When was the last time this place was cleaned?" He asked.

The caretaker lumbered around to face the young man. A lifetime of
cigarettes had not made the stairs easy for him.

"Nobody said it was ten Downing Street".
His growling cough cleared a temporary airway through bronchial tubes
blocked by years of abuse. "You've got a phone, a desk and filing
cabinets. What more do you want for the money?"

Of course the old man had a point. There was plenty of office space
available but the rents being charged were exorbitant.
Then he'd spotted the ad in the local rag 'OFFICE TO LET. LOW RENT. NO
DEPOSIT. NO REFERENCES' He'd written to the box number and it was true,
the rent was almost a give-away. He'd never met or spoken to anyone,
letter did it all and here he was.

"Well, do you want it or not?" The old man was getting impatient.
"I'll take it. I'll be back first thing in the morning to clean the
place up, if that's o.k. By the way, I won't need three filing
cabinets. D'you mind if I move a couple of them onto the
landing?"

"I don't give a shoot what you do" The old man had turned his back.
"The carzy is on the left. Bring your own paper, I'm not running a
hotel"
Early the next morning, fully armed with bucket and cleaning materials,
he started on the lavatory, which was in a disgusting state.
Fortunately, there was plenty of hot water and after a good wash down
it became more or less civilized.

He then tackled the office, cleaning the walls and window with soapy
water and scrubbing the floor. He scrubbed the desk including the
inside of the drawers and did the same with all three filing cabinets,
before moving two of them onto the landing as superfluous to his
needs.

This had taken most of the day. Finally he installed his computer, fax
machine and tea making stuff, lay out his diary and made the desk look
ready for work.

Tired but satisfied, he went home.

At a few minutes to nine the following morning he bounded up the stairs
anxious to start his new career. He didn't register that one of the two
filing cabinets was not where he'd left it on the landing, but noticed
it on entering the office. There were two where before there had been
one.

"Strange, perhaps the caretaker had felt that the landing was
overcrowded and moved one of them back inside. Never mind lets get on
with it"

He set to work with a will, using his computer, address book and
yellow pages he spent the day making contacts and arranging
appointments for the coming weeks. He finished, feeling satisfied.
Nothing concrete but lots of leads to follow up and it was only day
one.

It was as he was getting ready to leave that he noticed the dust. It
was very little, on top of the filing cabinets. Also, the window didn't
look quite as clean as it had that morning.

"Odd, Oh well, can't help that now". And he left for home.

The next morning he noticed that the second filing cabinet had been
moved back into the office. He made a mental note to have a serious
word with the caretaker.

Once inside he couldn't believe his eyes. Everything was thick with
dust. The three filing cabinets, the desk, everything. Exasperated, he
fetched the rags from under the sink and went round the room wiping
down every surface. After two hours the office was clean and he moved
two of the filing cabinets out onto the landing, out of his way.

Back to his work he continued his cold calling, popping out for a
well-earned pizza at lunchtime.

When he got back he saw that one of the cabinets was back in the
office.
He went out on to the landing and called loudly down the
stairwell.

"I say, are you there? Caretaker, are you there?"

No answer
.
"Just wait, I'll give him a piece of my mind when I see him".

It then occurred to him that he hadn't seen the old man since that
first day.

"Oh well, I'll run into him eventually". He got on with his work.

It was just after five when he pushed back his chair, stretched and got
up to leave that he noticed the dust had returned whilst he'd been
working.

"To hell with it". He went home.

The next morning the third cabinet had rejoined the other two in the
office.

"The old fool must have done it last night".

He went out onto the landing and yelled at the top of his voice over
the rail.

"Hey, you down there. I know you're there. What's the big idea"?

No answer. He continued shouting, becoming more and more irate until
his voice was hoarse. He couldn't believe he was behaving like this.
Taking a deep breath he went inside. What he saw started the tightness
in his chest.

Every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust. The window was
filthy with grease. Even the phone was dirty. He sank to his knees, his
breath coming in short gasps, the pain in his chest becoming more
acute.

It was then he heard that bronchial, wheezing voice from outside the
door.

"What's going on? What's your problem? What's all the noise about? If
you've any complaints put it in writing. I'm not running a 'otel
y'know".

Inside the office the young man couldn't answer. He tried to speak, to
call out, but his voice was mangled in his throat as his breath
failed.
.......................................................

"This way, I wouldn't trust that banister if I were you".

The young, smartly dressed woman climbed the stairs with trepidation.
She'd just qualified as a solicitor and was anxious to start her own
practice. At the top of the stairs the old caretaker pushed open the
creaking door.

"Well" she said. Not wanting to be rude as the rent was very
attractive. "It's very dirty but I could soon clean it up"

"I don't care what you do", said the old man.

"Just one thing though" she said, "I'd like to move a couple of those
out onto the landing. I don't need four filing cabinets".