Bonzer Words!: The Smell On The Landing
Some tenants are so unwelcomed, as John Turner reveals.
Enter Deidre - 20 something, veterinary scientist, newly-appointed to a post at a local animal research centre: lively, intelligent, with compatible views and interests.
Peaceful weeks passed during which she cycled off to work, entertained her nice quiet boyfriend, swapped LPs with us, and best of all, paid her rent promptly, She even offered to bring us a chicken from work (chickens in the '50s were, to us, a Christmas-only luxury). Unfortunately, the bird arrived un-plucked, and complete with its internal organs, which necessitated a crash self-help course in poultry preparation, an experience I swore never to repeat!
Then things changed. Ee noticed little animal noises and smells coming from her kitchen: if Deidre was bringing her 'work' home, I had to find out what she was doing.
My chance came one week-end when she was away; none of her doors were locked, so I took a peep. On the floor--a trail of seeds, straw and furry/feathery substances leading to empty cages. But in the sink, what can only be described dispassionately as 'visceral detritus'!
Oh dear, confrontation time--but how to rid us of Dr. Deidre and her sinister specimens? Rising to the challenge as a true Cancerian i.e. hard outer shell, soft, mushy innards I chickened-out and increased her rent.
It worked. She left with all of her 'accoutrements', plus a portion of my record collection.
Heigh ho! Time for another card in the corner-shop window.
'Back again, Mr. Turner?'
'I'm afraid so.'
'Ah well, third time lucky perhaps.'
'Perhaps.'
© John Turner
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John writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au
