Sam had been getting increasingly frustrated with finding a new place to live. Her current flat-mates, although pleasant enough, had just enough of those 'quirky' habits that had her grinding her teeth and keeping to her own room. Little things. Not doing the washing up for two days. Repeatedly forgetting to do any cleaning.
Not paying bills on time. Honestly. Little things.
She'd always kept a busy schedule in her life, through university and now, in her early twenties, in work. Her long dark hair was normally tied back out of the way for when she went skating or running three or four days a week, and the exercise had given her a tight stomach and beautiful long, lean legs.
Finally, after coming in once too often to find piles of dirty plates and a reminder from the electricity company about yet another late payment, Sam had made the final decision to move out. Figuring that finding somewhere in London at short-notice couldn't be that hard she'd given her notice to the landlord (with a full explanation of why) and started scanning websites for vacant spots.
A week later she hadn't found anything that she liked and was beginning to regret her hastiness. Dropping her standards a little helped, though, and one evening in her room (studiously ignoring the sounds of another hey-everyone-lets-get-drunk-in-front-of-X-Factor evening in the lounge) she spotted an advert that caught her eye:
"Double room in flat-share in three bed house. Near to Clapham Junction rail, local parks and shops, bills, internet and council tax included. Single female professionals only, please. Ring Vikki..."
Sam looked again at the rent asked. At first glance it seemed high, but reading again the phrase about everything being included meant that for the location it was actually a good rate. Sam picked up her phone and dialled the number.
The phone rang a few times and Sam was just getting ready to leave a message when it was picked up. There was a strange half-second burst of sound before a female voice answered.
"Whoops, sorry about that! Just testing something here. Hi, it's Vikki, uh, I don't recognise the number so I assume this is about the flatshare, yeah?"
"Uh, yes," answered Sam, a little bewildered. "I saw the advert and was hoping it was still available?"
"Sure!" replied Vikki brightly. "The advert went in only yesterday so you're actually the first to call. It'd be great to meet you. You free at the weekend? How about three o'clock, that good for you?" Her voice was pleasant and assertive. Sam liked the sound of her – she'd been worried that she'd get off to a wrong start with this potential new friend.
She was also caught a little off-guard by Vikki setting the time. "Let me just double-check," she said, catching her phone on her shoulder and grabbing her diary from by her bed. Another short burst of static came through the phone whilst she flipped pages.
"Woah, I have got to sort that out, apologies! It's some work I brought home with me, I'm in computers and sometimes you need to make it work at home to meet your deadline." Vikki didn't sound that sorry, but Sam found she didn't mind all that much. She knew what it was like to end up bringing work home.
"Right," said Sam. "Three o'clock is fine by me. What's the full address?" As Vikki read out the full details, along with a little bit of information about the best way to get there, Sam noted it all down. "Thanks, Vikki, see you Saturday."
"Looking forward to it. See you Saturday!"
Sam was delighted to find, a few minutes later, that Vikki had texted over the details of the address to make sure she'd got it correctly. She appreciated someone with that kind of attention to detail and care for others.
***
Come Saturday, Sam found herself in a minor quandary about what to wear. Professional? Relaxed? Comfortable? She knew that first impressions were important and had got it in her head that this was a good opportunity. She also knew from previous experience that she was unlikely to be the only person viewing the flat, and wanted to make sure she succeeded.
"The hell with it," she said out loud in her room. "With my luck, the other person will be a cute guy. Let's take a chance on it."
One pair of tight black jeans, high quality dark blue buttoned crop-top showing just a little bit of stomach and a fair amount of cleavage, knee length black boots and freshly-washed hair tied back in a long pony-tail later, she set out. The weather forecast had predicted a warm day for late April and the sun warmed her arms and face as she caught the Tube. Something at the back of her head wondered that she'd dressed herself more for a date than a house viewing, but she ignored it. A half-hour later, she was outside the door of her potential new home.
It looked good from the outside. Fresh-ish paint, tidy (if tiny) front garden, no rubbish cluttering up the front porch. Sam stepped up and pressed the doorbell.
The woman answering the door was a couple of inches shorter than Sam. Dark hair tied back in two pigtails, breasts that Sam couldn't help but with the way they were pushed out at her in a very short red top, and bare feet at the end of her leggings. Her gaze flicked over Sam from top-to-bottom and she grinned, extended her hand and said "Hi, I'm Vikki! Please to meet you! Come in!"
Shaking hands, Sam stepped into the house, past Vikki and into a short hallway. Vikki pointed off to one side, closing the door, and gestured for her to go through. Stepping through the open door, Sam found herself in a decent-sized lounge area. Three-person sofa, spare armchair, TV stand and a bookcase to one side holding DVDs, books and CDs. A mirror over the fireplace. Looked well cared for. Vikki went and planted herself in middle of the sofa, before immediately bouncing back up.
"You look warm, such a nice day today with the sun. Want a drink? Make yourself comfortable on the chair and I'll be right back. Haven't got anyone else in today so there's no rush." Leaving Sam no time to answer she bustled through another door.
Sam sat carefully in the armchair and found it extremely comfortable, soft without being the kind of chair you were worried about being able to get out of. As she always did in a new house, she glanced along the bookshelves to see what she could work out. Mostly well-known films and books, couple of ones she hadn't heard of. On the stand by the TV was a DVD case left open for a film called "Secretary". There was also what looked like some kind of technical manual on the sofa armrest.
Vikki nudged the door open and emerged from the kitchen holding two glasses. She reached across and passed one to Sam.
"Cheers!" she said, raising the glass. "Here's to sunny days."
