My name is Richard Singleton, aged 45 and I run the City Council's housing department. I am 5' 9" tall and comfortably built although it would not take too much exercise to get me into more youthful trim. There is no regular female companion in my life but half a dozen married women welcome me into their arms on a casual if irregular basis. Apart from that, I get by with pick-ups at singles bars and the odd quickie from grateful clients.
I was married for ten years but that ended five years ago on the grounds of my wife's adultery. I had played around plenty myself so would have been willing to accept my wife's misdemeanour as tit for tat had it not been for the particular bloke who was screwing her. He was my boss and I hated the bastard. For three years he had picked on me, given poor appraisals and generally ensured that I got all the shitty jobs. Then it suddenly changed. I started being given the fact finding missions to other cities with stays in plush hotels and all the little cushy overnight seminars - I even copped for the weekends abroad that were his legitimate perk. I genuinely believed that he was trying to make amends for all the previous unkind behaviour until I discovered he had only been creating opportunities to get his leg over with Anne. Well, the newspapers got hold of the story, he was demoted and moved to another city and I walked into his job, largely on the strength of the many courses that he had sent me on.
So at 9:30 a.m. on a cold late march morning, I walked into the reception area near to my office and paused to look over the mass of humanity already assembled. This area contained rows of hard backed chairs and at one end of the room, six semi-circular screens which gave an illusion of privacy for the personal interviews with the clerks on duty. The clientele were almost exclusively life's unfortunates, seeking crisis loans or accommodation or possibly waiting to dispute eviction notices. I was very glad that my years of direct interface with the customers now lay many years in the past.
Having decided that it was an average attendance for I Monday, I was about to walk on to my office upstairs when I noticed a young couple sitting tightly holding hands. Both looked about twenty but she was delightful, like an exotic flower blooming in an area of waste ground. I moved until slightly concealed behind one of the screens and from this better vantage, was able to get a close look at the pair. The youth had a shock of light coloured hair, an open face with a ruddy complexion and his general image was that of a country lad or yokel. He was wearing a bomber jacket, unnecessarily baggy trousers and heavy white trainers. In contrast she seemed neat. A very pretty face surrounded by short brown curly hair, a slim figure and what looked like very shapely legs. Even from a distance I could make out the shape of her breast through the heavy winter coat. Coming to a decision, I emerged from my hiding place and walked up to them. "Housing application?" I asked.
The girl looked up. "How did you know?" she wondered.
I ignored her question and keeping my face enigmatic said, "I am Mr Singleton, the manager. Would you like to come with me?"
The girl hesitated. "It's not our turn yet. Most of these other people are before us. It will be ages before our number comes up." As proof she showed me the numbered ticket issued at the door and then pointed up at the indicator on the wall.
I smiled. "Don't take any notice of that. I am conducting a random statistical survey and I want to ask a few questions."
She still hesitated. "That will make us miss out turn," she objected.
"Not at all," I reassured her. "I am taking personal control of your case. By dealing with me you might get out of here quicker that if you continued to queue, I most certainly will not make you any later." This was a lie because, if they failed to hold my interest than I would simply recycle them back into the system.
I led them up to my office and then quickly placed a second chair in front of my desk to join the one that always stood there. Sitting at the desk I made a great show of placing a sheet of paper in front of me then looked up and studied them in silence. The lad was sprawled back almost insolently in the chair with his legs stretched out in front of him. She sat primly, knees together, hands folded in her lap looking respectfully at me.
"Have you lived in the city all your lives?" I began.
The girl answered. "I have but Brian only moved here when he was three."
"Same thing," I murmured, pretending to make two ticks on the paper. "Do you like the city. Have you considered moving away?" I asked generally, trying to ad-lib the questions as I went along.
"We do like it here," she said. "Anyway, all our friends and relations live here so we do not want to move."
"Education, O-levels, CSE's?" I asked, this time directing the question directly towards the youth.
Again it was she who answered. "He's got four CSE's, I'm not sure about the grades." Turning to him for help she prompted "Brian?"
"Dunno," he said.
Trying to cover for her boyfriends unhelpful answer, she added quickly, "I got six O-levels and A-level Computer Science. I also have a secretarial diploma."
"Very good," I said, going through the motions of writing the information down. The girl was beginning to intrigue me. She was both bright and articulate. I found it difficult to understand how she had finished up engaged to such a lump of wood. In that moment, I decided that I would handle the application. Very deliberately I folded the still blank piece of paper and slipped it inside a folder that I removed from my drawer. Then, selecting a legitimate Housing Application form, I said briskly, "Right -- your application. Can I have your names please."
"Brian Duffy and Carole Benitton."
"How old are you Carole?"
"Twenty. Brian is too but he is nearly twenty-one."
"I will put twenty down for you both for now. I can get your dates of birth later. Why do you need a house?"
"We want to get married and we can't until we have somewhere to live.
"What about living with parents?"
"There,s no room. Brian has two brothers and a sister and I am the same. I only share with my sister but he has to share a bedroom with both his brothers."
"That's good. According to the rules, that classes as overcrowding and is worth some bonus points. How long have you known each other?"
Carole was pleased by the mention of bonus points and now smiled as she told me, "We've been going together for almost three years but have known each other for longer."
I spent some time writing and when I glanced up, Brian was gazing vacuously out of the window but she was watching me alertly. I could see that I would need to handle this very carefully indeed. The girl had really got under my skin. Not only was she exceedingly attractive but there was a real gleam of intelligence in her eyes. "I think that I have got everything that I need for now," I said, putting my pen back in my pocket.
Carole was surprised. "Is that all? I thought that there would be lots of forms to fill in."
"There is -- but I can't see much point in wasting time doing that until I know if there is something worthwhile to offer you. Can you come back later in the week after I have had chance to check what is available?" I already knew that there was very little available and that the best they could realistically hope for was to spend two years working their way up the waiting list.
"I can come in any lunchtime but Brian is working on a building site outside the city. He had to take the day off to come with me today."
