Chapter 9: It’s Alright For Some.
‘Sharon’ Harold said, his jaw set like he meant it. He knew why she was here. The matter of ownership of his mother’s house. ‘Why are you here? And how did you get in?’
‘It’s Shania now, Harold, I changed my name by Deed Poll. You know why I’m here, and as for how I got in, I have a key, you idiot.’
‘Well, you could have just telephoned!’
‘I’ve been trying to contact you, Harold! You have not answered any of my messages. For goodness sake, I haven’t seen you since Mother’s funeral’
‘I’ve been busy! And anyway, it’s not Deed Poll, it’s D-Poll!’
‘No it isn’t it’s Deed Poll! I should know! Anyway, busy! Ha! Doing what? Oh don’t bother Harold, I don’t want to know. I just want to sort this out, once and for all.’ Sharon’s angry Radcliffe accent had reappeared. That was the trouble with Harold, he was so annoying even his own sister could not be in the same room as him for more than five minutes without coming out in vexation. Harold started waffling on with himself about where he got the incorrect term ‘D-Poll’ from, proof by repeated assertion was another one of his annoying traits. Harold knew nothing! Their mother’s funeral had been a bone of contention that remained unpicked. Sharon had paid for the wake, a slap up do buffet of sausage rolls and sandwiches. Harold had been first in the queue with his paper plate, and last to offer to pay for it. In fact, he never offered. Sharon smirked to herself when she remembered that Harold took a box of leftovers home, some of which had been on the floor. She felt a little mean for finding this amusing, but then, it was Harold. Now, here he was, having not put their mother’s house up for sale, living here rent free.
‘I can’t afford to sell it, Sharon. I’ve just been reading about bedroom tax. There are three bedrooms if you include your old box-room, imagine how much that will set me back?!’
‘You idiot, Harold, bedroom tax is not about how many bedrooms you have in a house that you own!’
Harold thought he had a reason for everything, an excuse, as to why he was such a disaster.
‘Anyway, it’s inheritance tax you should be worried about, although without looking into it, and without knowing the valuation, Oh Harold, we need to get on with it before…’
Harold’s neck was taking some punishment tonight! His head whipped around quickly, and was he starting to smile? ‘What’s the rush Sharon? Are you dying?’
‘No Harold, I’m not dying. I am going to live in Australia. I’m emigrating’
‘Emigrating!’ Harold’s neck had a wobbly life of its own.
‘Yes, Kevin and myself, we have decided we are sick of the rat-race, so we have sold up and we hope to leave in the next six months.’
‘Rat-race? You mean he finally left his wife!’ Harold was naturally nosy, which Sharon ignored.
‘Yes, they are a bit more relaxed in Australia’
‘You say that as if you’re getting a bus to Bolton! Pah! Life’s the same wherever you live’
‘It’s been my dream since I was a child’
‘No it hasn’t
‘Yes it has, Harold’
‘No, I remember, you wanted to be a show jumper. Like on National Velvet‘
Sharon dismissed disappointing memories of Harold getting a deluxe magician’s kit and her getting a second hand hobby horse for Christmas. She replaced those thoughts with the matter in hand.
‘Harold, I want to tie up any loose ends before I go, so move out, so that I can sell up!’
‘No.’ Harold folded his arms and looked straight ahead, as though Sharon was not there.
‘What do you mean ‘No’? You have to! I’m entitled!’ Sharon stood there angrily in the dark trying to explain to her brother. Harold did not move for longer than was reasonably necessary. Eventually, Sharon left, as she did, she stole some of her brother’s post, how foolish of him to leave unopened envelopes at the door!
‘Entitled, well it’s alright for some!’ Harold said to himself, no one will want to buy this house! It’s in Radcliffe! Harold decided to stay put.
Happy reading, Samantha xx