Get Out!!! by Kooi Lim (free ebook reader for ipad .TXT) 📖

Get out!!!!

“All I hear these days are that mum is sick with worries about how to pay the mortgages. She is apparently outside the house everyday screaming and shouting at the squatters to get out. Apparently, the squatters called the police but they refused to arrest mum. Can you image our little mum being in prison!!! God forbid!!! Poor mummy! The court case is not until the 22nd of January and by then she said she would be totally bankrupted. Did you hear about little Simon? Isn’t that sweet of little Simon to offer mum his £20 savings to pay for the mortgage? He has no idea!! I supposed you cannot expect our 8 year old little brother to know about mortgages and the vast amount of money involved!!! We need to get together to see if we can help mum and dad,” Laura was talking on the phone to her 26 years older brother, Paul.

“Did you also hear that dad had to stop mum from throwing a bottle of petrol and setting fire to the house? Can you imagine mum getting vicious? Then she wanted to buy a hornet of bees to let out into the house. Where the hell is she going to get that? She is trying so hard and the wrong way to get these bloody squatters out. She looked so stressed and in tears all the time and I am really worried for her. We have to do something to help. Oh, apparently dad said Ishman, dad’s friend also wanted to trick himself into the house by pretending to be a road maintenance man needing water. He was going to trick himself into the house and then changed the lock. They also wanted to climb through the back garden wall and through the bathroom window on the top floor!!!! All this because the squatters have put up a notice to say that 73 is their home and not even the owner of the house can get them out unless through court.” Laura and Paul are saddened that their parents have to suffer so much just to get back their own house and their lives back. They are the hardest working couple of earth. It is just so unfair. They have so many bullies in their lives, both at work and outside. Life as a foreigner must be difficult.

Laura is back from University for Christmas. She parks her car a few doors away from the red brick Victorian house so that she has a good view of who goes in and out of number 73. She remembers mum saying that the monthly mortgage for that house is £1500. It is a beautiful 5 bedroom full of dated period features like very tall ceiling, beautiful unused fire places and colourful window panes. The hedge is so over grown that it is concealing the basement door and window. It makes the 3 by 3 meter front garden very shaded and probably blocking off all lights to the kitchen. There is a broken porcelain sink unit dumped against the next door neighbour’s front garden brick wall, resting on the far right side of the garden. There are two black bags of rubbish waiting to be collected by the Wednesday truck.

Laura parks her little silver Peugeot strategically diagonally opposite 73, Ickburgh road. She can see a huge 6 foot 6 Caucasian Rastafarian wearing a combat trouser and a puffy dirty green jacket coming out of the house and leading a massive bull dog terrier. He must be walking the dog. She has a basket with a flask of tea, a cheese sandwich, a packet of walkers cheese and onion crisp, a packet of jammy dodgers and two pink lady apples to keep her replenished. She then pushes her driver’s seat back a little so that she can stretch her legs, and places the soft red fleece blanket over her legs for comfort and warmth. It is now the middle of the afternoon and outside is wet and the temperature gauge shows 8 Celsius. Inside the car it is still nice and warm. She will have to turn up the heating later on. Beyounce is keeping her company singing “I am a single lady, single lady, oh oh oh......” on her iPod, which is plugged to her ears. She also plugs her lab top to the car and is ready to start her homework (business studies) about setting up a small enterprise. Half an hour into writing about setting up a stall in Camden market selling her specially designed shoes, as good, if not more stylish than Jimmy Choo’s, and selling them to all those trendy rich lucky kids. She has to plan how many she would have to make and sell to make a profit and how she would go about employing or even working by herself. She is hoping to get a distinction.

Laura not only looks like her mum, infact, is even prettier than her mum as she has somehow got the best traits of both parents. She has inherited her mum’s oriental thick black luscious wavy Cheryl Cole’s style hair, reaching to her waist. Her hour glass figure on top of her shapely smooth legs attracted a group of Philippino boys in the market of Manila while they were tourists a year ago. The boys came from the very crowded market and somehow singled her out and surrounded her and started singing James blunt’s song very loudly,“ Your are beautiful is true........I don’t know what to do. I am so in love with you.” They somehow calmly surrounded her alone and the rest of her family and the civilians were just left laughing and bewildered at how much attention she attracted. Her older brother too was surrounded by Phillipino girls all trying to get his attention. Apparently he looks like one of their handsome film star, which one never really found out.

She is 5 foot four and three quarter (the quarter is very important as it means she is nearer to 5foot 5 than 5 foot four inches, so she told mum). When you are small every little inch means a hell of a lot of difference. It could mean getting on the rides at leisure centre. She remembers her poor little 8 year old brother Simon could not get in by one inch. He was devastated not to be allowed into the black hole rides in the water world.

For the last two days she has been sitting in her little silver Peugeot and has been jotting down every single person that goes in and out of the number 73 house. Her mind wonders to what her mum was telling her over the phone while they were having their weekly chats when she was at university. Mum told her that her West Indian friend, Marie, who is divorced and has a son who lives miles away and so she really is on her own. She is like mum and even after 30 years in England they both still speak like they had never left their mother countries.

Marie’s West Indian accent is still so thick Mei Ling has to listen carefully to make any sense. “Pur Dalin, You got squattas in u houwse? Theeese peepple are bad, u know? . U kno they bad. They never leave, u know?.Let me tell u somephing. U need to get heavies. Let me tell u what I did to get mine out. My houwse a few years ago, there was this man who I employed to paint my howse!! He refused to leave and put a squatta sign up to say he was a squatta, like yours did. I got really upset when he also started bringing his friends in. There must be about 10 of them. Anyway, luv, you know what I did. I ordered a ton of bricks from B&Q. They deliveved to the houwse. Me and my girl friend built a wall to block all of the front garden. They could not get out.” She gave a hollow laugh and smacked her hands together as though she still have the satisfaction. “I sat outside where the wall was blocking the main entrance every day with my radio and was knitting with my friends. We had a party and I invited all my friends and we had so much fun keeping watch. The sqauuters got very fed up and they climbed through the back garden fence and off they went and that was the last time I saw them. Tell you darlink, you must be able to get them out yourself and don’t go to the police or court. It would cost u an arm and a leg and it will take forever. Then, there was another time in the other house. U know how many people were in there. It was like a commonwealth nation. There were all sorts of young people. Polish, Romania, Russian, Japanese, u name it there were there. One of them was also pregnant. They tell me that I have to be kind to them because they were expecting a baby!!! What a life. I told them to go to the council and get help rather than living in my house. I lost so much money and I was so bankrupt and am still trying to pay back the money I borrowed from friends to pay for the mortgage of the houwse so that these squattas can mess up my house. There is just no justice. You know what I did after the pregnant one got out. I climbed up the scaffolding, all the way up three floors. It was so windy and cold. I thought I was going to fall and die. I thought maybe if I did fall the squattas would took pity on me but u know what they are selfish bastards. They don’t care. Anyway, I did make it through the top floor window and there was a young Spanish guy, Pepei. He was skinny!! And he looked like he had not eaten for days. So I gave him £10 to buy fish and chips. He came back and we both share the meal. He said his mum did not know he was there. I was hoping he would not come back but you know what ? he did. I was disappointed. I should have changed the lock then but I did not bring any tools with me.”

“So, if mum knows u are here will she be worried? Can u give me her phone number and I will phone her for u to tell her u are fine and she was not to worry. Do u want me to do that?” Pepei nodded.

Then another Pepei lookalike came in. He was even smaller and skinnier. He was very angry and jealous when he saw us and explurted, “Wher do u have the money to eat fish and chips? Where is mine?”
“Dont worry love, here u are, u not eaten as well? When is the last time u ate. Now u run along ,luv and buy yourself anything u want. Come on luv, u must go back home and live a proper life. U must get your brother back home as well. How old is he? 19? Pepei nodded again and said, “Leave us alone. We are fine. Just go please or I will phone up the police.”

“ Alrigtht luv, I am going and if u need anything let me know, ok. Here is my phone number and make sure u phone if u need me,ok