The Debt Collecter Calls

Through the curtains she saw the undistinguishable saloon car pull up
outside her neighbours’ house this was a ploy by the debt collector,
the element of surprise that never worked because it was too obvious.
Her heart skipped a beat or two as she slid towards the living room
floor and covered her face with her hands. She was tired of the worry
and sick of the fear. She thought of her life before she lost her job
where bills were paid on time and the kids got the occasional luxury.
Happier times had slipped away like an ebb tide. The reliance of
benefits was something she had never experienced before and she wished
such humiliation was foisted upon the corrupt politicians who demonised
anyone claiming state funds.

The footsteps marching towards her front door quickened her breath,
there were two people this time, perhaps the company chosen to claw back
the debt were raising the intimidation levels? She laughed at this
thought knowing she was as frightened as she could ever be right at this
moment.
Two loud knocks on the door followed by murmuring voices
‘I bet she’s in’ said a voice that sounded authorative, he must be the senior of the two she pondered.
‘How do you know?’ inquired a clearly younger voice
‘you get a feel for this job’ he knocked harder 4 times because four hard knocks makes it sound really official.
She curled up into a ball under the living room window and began to
rock. In her head she sang Jesus loves the little children and wondered
why that song had made an entrance.
The letterbox opened
‘Hello Mrs Carter, we know you’re at home, we just want to talk to you’, said the senior man.
She put her fingers in her ears ‘jesus loves the little children’ she
didn’t know the rest of the words so she just repeated the same line
over and over.

‘Come on Mrs Carter you’ll have to face me at some point if you want to avoid the bailiffs’
There it is, the b word it didn’t take long. She shook violently at the
thought of being homeless with two young children but remained in a ball
recollecting her childhood, playing on a swing, pushing a pram, sitting
on a beach, laughing in a car and sleeping with her favourite cuddly
tiger cub.

Six loud knocks followed by silence then footsteps vanishing down the
path. She knew there was more to come. The men would sit in their car
for a while hoping for sings of movement from the house. She uncurled
herself and stared at the clock. It was 9.45 she waited until 10.30
before crawling on all fours towards the kitchen. She put the kettle on
and breathed several sighs.
She sat at the kitchen table counting the squares in the tablecloth. She
stopped at six, the precise number of visits she had received. They
will be back and she will hide until a fairy godmother arrives in the
deep dark night to tell her all her fears have been erased…..

TBF..