It had been a bad time for Shirley and myself. Two failed business attempts had left us completely broke. No money; no car and the nice riverside apartment in which we used to live had been cruelly repossessed by the bank. But it's ironic that, just when you think things can't possibly get any worse, they suddenly do!
The accident had been entirely my own fault. I was walking home from yet another disappointing interview towards the dingy little apartment that we had rented. My mind was filled with thoughts of how I was going to make ends meet; bills were beginning to pile up again and no work meant no money to pay them. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn't see the car until it was right on top of me. I heard a screech of brakes and looked up. That was the last thing I remember until waking up in hospital with both arms and legs in plaster.
So, major problems; no money, more bills and me with no chance to work. Things went from bad to worse. Shirley and I would argue most days. Being incapacitated as I was, it was impossible for me to do much around the apartment and, as for sex, I seemed to have lost all interest in my wife.
And then Rent Day came along. I had been dreading the knock on the door, agonizing over it for the past few days, knowing that it was inevitable. Both Shirley and I knew there was no way we could pay; we had virtually no money left and the apartment, owned by a local tough-guy businessman, was not cheap. Of course I had been expecting the call, but when it came it still made me jump.
"Oh, Harry! That's Mr. Davis for the rent." Shirley cried as the knock boomed loudly through the small apartment. "What are we going to do now?"
It seemed like another row was about to develop. Sitting immobile and rather uncomfortably in the lounge armchair, I signalled to my wife that she should open the door and let our landlord in; my theory being that it was best to get the problem over with.
I could hear the door open and very shortly Davis' large frame loomed in the doorway.
"Morning, Harry." His face was calm and serene but I knew that wouldn't last long.
"Good morning Mr. Davis."
Davis unfolded a leather bound ledger that he carried under his arm with a flourish. For a second or two he studied the page in silence.
"Looks like two months to pay, Harry."
"Two months?" I blurted the words out. "There must be some mistake!"
I looked over at Shirley for confirmation that she had paid last months rent. Her eyes avoided mine and stared intently at her bare feet.
"No...no mistake, Harry," Davis continued, "no payment last month means you owe two months now."
Again my eyes shot back to my wife. This time she looked up and I could see the tears about to form. "Oh, Harry. I'm sorry, but the hospital fees had to be paid. I just didn't know what to do!"
Again, the silence was almost tangible. I looked at Shirley, she looked at me and Davis eyed both of us with a growing suspicion. Eventually it was he that spoke first.
"Seems we have a situation here," he said, "I take it from your expressions that not only can't you pay two months, you can't even pay one?"
Both Shirley and I nodded our heads solemnly in unison as our landlord watched us.
"So, what to do then?" Davis said. "If you can't pay you have to leave!"
"But we can't!" Shirley pleaded tearfully. "We've got nowhere to go! Please Mr. Davis, Can't you give us another chance? There must be something we can do?"
More silence. I looked at Davis as he carefully eyed my wife up and down as if almost inspecting her. Shirley has always been a good looking woman and today, dressed in a simple red top and tight jeans, she looked very attractive. I could see the look in Davis' eye and knew what he was thinking.
