The challenge posed for Day 1 of the 30-Day writing challenge reads:
[ Brief: Your character moves into a new apartment. On the surface, the place seemed
ideal, but his/her first night there, your character discovers a terrible problem with the place that he/she didn't take into account... ]
Clearly the task hinges on the “terrible problem”, hence I will call the post… I’ll tell you what: we’ll give it a name later, after the ideas have hopefully start flowing. Ok?
Jerry Uniden adjusts the volume on his i-Pod, as he sits in the back of the taxi in the stormy black traffic of London this late November Sunday evening. He is on his way home… His new home, where his personal effects have already been dropped off earlier that afternoon by courier whilst he was still flight-bound to London Gatwick.
Bugger. I’ve been thinking ahead to the nature of the “terrible problem.” I need to confess in paragraph one of Day 1 of the challenge: I’m afraid I have a terrible problem myself… I need to discover Jerry’s phobia or personal problem… otherwise the story will not get off the ground...
Jerry’s apprehension is being fuelled by the unknown. Until now, he’s been protected under the wing of his Mamma, where he’s been living since leaving teacher’s college eight years ago. Now, after teaching piano at the Gustav Holst College of Music in Kenya and living on the farm with Mamma, he will be starting a prestigious job in London under the renowned composer-musician Sir Malcolm Butterford at the Sussex Gardens Academy.
The thought of working under Professor Butterford is causing apprehension... The thought of having to commute by tube train during peak hours in London is causing apprehension... The thought of where he will be living, living alone without the comforting wing of Mamma as protection, is causing apprehension… The thought of where he will find a place to have supper each night is causing apprehension… At least, the apartment where he will live is not an unknown factor. At least, there’s no apprehension on that front.
Dwell on the positive. Dwell on the positive. That’s what Mamma has always said. Niki Apartments. His new home. That’s positive, that’s apprehension-free… From his inside pocket, he takes a DL ivory-coloured envelope. Printed on the back he can just make out in the dim light printed in dark green ink the words “Omega Lettings – long-term leases” and a Leyton address in smaller font. He carefully withdraws the document from its cover and looks at the photograph of the imposing building called The Niki once more. A bit on the posh side, but posh is good. Posh is positive.
The Niki is apprehension-free. Mamma had promised that his apartment is at the back of the building, adjoining a kind of portico garden with climbing creepers and shady trees. His unit is number 14A. That sounds positive. “A” is good. Frequently “A” is the best, as good as it gets.
He is not all that concerned as to whether he will have access to the gardens with creepers and trees, or to the gym which is located in the basement. Neither is he over-concerned about the open-air bar-b-que on the roof-top on the fifteenth floor, as he is not really into eating animal flesh, and certainly has no head for heights. Anything above his first floor A14 suite will really be a no-go area – he will rather die than go to the bar-b-que facility, even if they happen to offer a “vegetarian” cook-out! No thanks, he’ll most certainly stay away from that…
Granted, the weekly rent for his garden-side suite is a bit on the steep side, almost half of his promised stipend. But this doesn’t present a problem, really, as Mamma can always organise a top-up draft from his investment income which comes from a handsome portfolio in his name after the untimely death of Mamma’s husband, Jerry’s late step-father. If the need should arise, it’s simply a matter of an email message…
He glances at his watch. Another five minutes and they should be arriving at The Niki. The Niki with his exclusive studio apartment 14A away from the noisy traffic at the back adjoining the peaceful portico garden with the climbing creepers and shady trees. Blissful country living in the middle of one of the busiest cities in the world. Blissful and apprehension-free. Yes. An accomplished pianist in his own right at the tender age of 27, Jerry is feeling good. Jerry is feeling successful. Professor Butterford, the tube and where to have supper, these are a bit of a cause for apprehension, but, by applying a bit of positivity, this will probably be the start of a great phase in his life. Bring it on!
He pockets the lease documents in their ivory-coloured DL envelope in his inside pocket, and relaxes in his seat, eyes closed while he imagines The Niki and his neighbours-to-be…
* * * * *
As the taxi drives away, Jerry picks up his travel case and trots up the three steps to the warmly-lit revolving door entrance of The Niki. Marble tiles adorn the hall floor, with luxurious walnut wall panelling and a just-audible recording of what Jerry recognises as the well-known ‘Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations’ playing over concealed speakers. He can live with this, he muses. Ah, the building directory: quite modern… electronic and high-tech, but not cheap, not like a station destination board.
There… “Reception – Lorna-Rose Portman : Suite C1”
He taps the little bell icon on the touch-screen. A sedate little ‘Ding!’ sound and the icon flashes on and off a few times. Ms Portman is apparently at home, and a soft feminine voice comes over an invisible speaker, “Jerry Uniden, I presume. Please go to the corridor marked ‘C Wing’ and I’ll meet you at my door which is number 1.”
The rendition of Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations then continues over the concealed speakers as before Ms Portman’s interjection. A few moments later he finds himself standing outside the imposing entrance door to suite C1.
“Jerry, welcome and do come in and sit down. We have no formalities here at The Niki, just call me Lorna-Rose.”
Jerry likes the name Lorna-Rose. So much better than an ordinary ‘Lorna’ or a common ‘Rose’, he thinks. Yes, he loves the name ‘Lorna-Rose’… so… fresh… so… so in keeping with the obvious tasteful standards maintained at The Niki…
Lorna-Rose is a shapely twenty-something, dressed tastefully in designer athletic wear. Perhaps she is on her way to the gym in the basement? She reminds Jerry of some or other television presenter or weather-forecaster. He decides that she will be a most agreeable neighbour, as she motions towards the coffee set on the table with enquiring eyebrows.
The coffee is strong and aromatic. The best he’s tasted for quite a while.
No apprehension about the neighbours so far. Much of the information Lorna-Rose is busy imparting is simply flowing over Jerry’s head, past his semi-glazed eyes. It must be the air travel from Kenya, followed by the trip from the airport, but he is not taking much in.
“But, I talk too much, Jerry. I’m sorry, you must be exhausted after your trip,” Lorna-Rose smiles, as she hands him an A4 folder. “This is our ‘Guide to The Niki’ which contains everything you need to know about your new home, and if you have any further needs, well, you know where to find me.” That smile again.
Jerry feels a bit flush as his cheeks redden ever so slightly. That smile again.
Lorna-Rose stands up and offers Jerry the single flat electronic door access card with A14 clearly engraved on the white background.
“Take the ‘A’ Block elevator to the fourteenth floor for your private luxury suite.” That smile again, “And, welcome once again, Jerry. I’m sure that living at The Niki will outstrip all your expectations.”
That smile again, “Oh, and of course the view of the city and the park below is to die for. Simply the best.”
* * * * *
I would probably entitle this piece something like “A View to Die For” ?
[ 1270 words ]
The instruction for Day 2 of the 30-Day challenge reads:
[ Brief: Write a story that includes: a tombstone, a first kiss, and a butterfly collection… ]
Careful what you ask for :)
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