Noleen’s List

My name is Noleen Barker and I live in a warden controlled flat. There – that’s me for you. I occupied early as I heard they were doing them out with a lovely shag pile and my tweed-twist was well past it’s sell by date.

Well it’s fine as far as it goes but life’s not exactly Vegas here if you get my drift. Whizz up an avocado dip or wear a pair of high-waisted slacks and they’re choking on their Bristol Cream. If it’s not casserole steak and a taupe button-through cardi you get the cold shoulder from the Fig Roll brigade.

I’m telling you all this so you understand why I did what I did…

I found the first one outside the public lavs by the dog do-dahs bin. I’d just stooped and scooped Bernie’s mess and straightened his bow when I saw it on the grass.

An old shopping list.

And that’s when I decided. I’d find out how other people lived. I’d buy their shopping and live their lives for a bit…

Well, that night I had a pizza with two big tins of lager with ‘Special Brew’ written on them. Enjoyed those, but the pizza made me sleepy and I dozed right through Emmerdale. Next morning I flicked through a copy of Nuts magazine. Not really my scene but hey ho. I couldn’t use the Mister Sheen though as I’m all formica and wipe-on-wipe-off.

I found the next one folded up in a trolley outside Iceland. This time it was fish fingers and the like. I had to get Leonard and Big Joan next door to look after some of it in their chest freezer. He’s additive-sensitive and she’s on weight watchers so I gave them the ice-cream and mini cheesecakes. That way if they did indulge they’d pay the price. A whiff of a French Fancy and he’s on the floor and she’s running round screaming points. Serves them right. I never forgave Leonard for spraying my smalls last month. My bits were soaked. Had to take them in and wash them all over. Of all the days to power hose your crazy paving. Never mind – I flipped one of Bernie’s messages over the garden fence that night.

Some of the lists are less interesting than others. I mean when it’s just a pint of semi-skimmed, a couple of chump chops and a quarter of pork luncheon meat I think come on Noleen where’s the fun in that? But when it’s like the one I found last week I think Noleen – you’re living the high life. There I was, sitting out by my lean-to with a glass of wine, a packet of Bombay Mix, listening to Michael Bublés latest.

Not like next door with their macramé owls and her endless fish pies. .

And I could smell something fishy when I knocked to get my mini-cheese cakes back out of their freezer – and cod it was not. She wasn’t there – spending some time with her sister in Norwich on a mini-break he said. Anyway I got my cheese-cakes back – checked the seal for tampering but all well there – and left. Leonard looked a bit odd I have to say – not his usual self. Sage V neck with a navy twill shirt. Nasty.

Some of the lists are dull though. Like the one I found outside the maintenance building here. I nearly didn’t use it but then I thought – Noleen – you’ve set yourself a challenge lady – now get your mules into gear and put your best bunion forward. And anyway you never know when bin liners and bleach will come in handy and the family packs of kitchen towels are always a safe bet. And as for the Chef’s Meat Knife in Presentation Leather Pouch – well – it looks smashing on my continental shelf.

Later that night I popped round and picked up the last of the ice cream from next door. Leonard was vacuuming with his Dyson like there was no tomorrow. Gave me back my Neopolitan and even offered me a couple of frozen joints. Said he hadn’t the room in his freezer.

Well the next day Bernie and I had a terrible shock. Turned out Joan wasn’t visiting her sister at all. Turned out she’d disappeared.

And that’s when it all started. Police cars, red and white stripy tape and a man in a white jump suit with a mask over his face. And there was I in the middle of my Sunday roast enjoying one of Leonard’s joints when they all trooped in bringing all manner of unmentionables onto my shag pile.

And questions – over and over again…

Did I know I’d been seen on Asda’s CCTV cameras?

Why did I buy four rolls of bin liners and six bottles of bleach?

What did I need a 24 pack of kitchen rolls for when it was just me and Bernie?

And why did I need a butcher’s meat cleaver?

Well I couldn’t answer – I mean how could I?

They were very nice though. Said I could finish my lunch before I went down the police station with them. Joint was a bit fatty though. Bit like Joan.

Tonight’s entry for the on-line comp! Usual formula – log on to the site at 5.30 to get three words or phrases – then 30 minutes to write and submit a story. I chose ‘The Interview’ and called my story Conversation with a  Stranger – undoubtedly inspired by Mrs Q!

Conversation with a Stranger

‘So what makes you think you can do the job?’

He doesn’t say this out loud but I can see him thinking it. His eyes are round and blue and glossy like glazed rain drops. His gaze penetrating – unwavering – as he looks at me. I try to keep calm but feel the panic welling up inside me. Silence.

‘I know I can do this because I want it so much. You can rely on me – I wont let you down. I mean I’ve never done this before but I’m hard working, patient, good with people and I’m enthusiastic.’

He doesnt look impressed – turns his eyes to look at the woman in the pale blue dress wearing pumps. She smiles at me kindly and I decide to turn my attention to her.

‘I mean you have to let people find their own way don’t you? It’ll be fine once I get started.’

‘Is there anything else we need to know Sara? Did you have any questions?’

The woman looks at me enquiringly. She’s worried. Thinks I can’t do it. She looks at Ben again – his face impassive and flat like a creamy moon.

‘Do you think she can do it Ben?’ She asks seriously; her voice calm and measured; her words wafting over me like a soft breeze.

Ben looks at me and then at her but I get in early again – need to retain my dignity.

‘You know I can do it don’t you Ben? I know you haven’t known me long but you need to trust me. And once we get started and understand each other we’ll get along  just fine.’

And then he cracks – smiles the biggest smile ever and I know I’ve nailed it. He extends a hand towards me and I note his beautifully manicured nails – so perfect. He is perfect. My new baby Ben safe in the arms of the mid wife. And I know I’ve got the job – First Time Mum!