THE LANDLADY by Jay Jay.

MRS JONES.

Cindy was invited to Mrs Jones' house the next day. Not a meeting that Cindy was looking forward to. It had been two months, and she was no closer to getting some people to rent the house.

She sat in Mrs Jones' dining room. China teapot and matching cups and saucers. Blood red roses decorated the china. Silver tongs and cubed sugar. Dainty lemon flavoured biscuits on a matching red rose plate.

All on a crisp white table cloth. 

"Now, tell me, dear," Mrs Jones said when they were both settled. "How is it going with my house?"

"Not good," Cindy confessed. "There is a neighbour that keeps putting people off."

"Ah, yes, Mr Paterson. Maybe I need to have a word with him."

"Could you? Only I've had him come over so many times and talk to my clients, he gets past me whatever I do."

"He is a very clever man, is he not?" Mrs Jones laughed. "But, tell me, my dear, are you sure that you are not being a little too fussy? Maybe I should lower the rent?"

"No, no...it is at the right price," Cindy said hastily.

"Well, maybe you could lower your sights a little. Maybe you could rent it to, well, I don't know, perhaps some people that are, shall we say, a bit down on their luck?"

"You wouldn't want that type of person living so close to you, would you? They might keep you up all night with parties, not pay their rent, mess the place up..." Cindy was snobbishly horrified. 

"Just think, though. Wouldn't you just love that sort of person to live next to Mr Paterson and his cronies? That would serve him right." Mrs Jones poured Cindy a cup of weak tea. "Don't you worry about me, Cindy. I am quite capable of looking after myself. I don't mind a bit of roughness, I find the snobby neighbours harder to deal with." Mrs Jones stared at Cindy through her thick granny glasses. "I want you to go out there, and find a bunch of the biggest losers that you can get your hands on. And do it soon. I need an income from that house quite desperately now."

"You could always sell the house. It would fetch a nice price."

Mrs Jones seemed to grow in size somehow. Cindy shrank back. She could feel the anger radiating from Mrs Jones in fierce waves.

"DON'T EVER SUGGEST THAT AGAIN. CLEAR?"

"Yes, mam!"

"Good." Mrs Jones brushed a tiny crumb from the table, scooped it carefully into her other hand, put it on the saucer. "Because I am not about to give up my parents home because of your incompetence. Now, you will find some people that collectively, can afford the rent. I don't care if you look under every trash can in the city to find them. As long as they get a benefit, they will do. You will lock them into a contract that means that they will pay the rent for the whole year, even if they move out. They can find someone to take their place to pay the rent, otherwise, they keep paying. Understand?"

"Crystal," Cindy murmured.

"You'll like the idea, once you leave here," Mrs Jones said. "You already fancy the idea of Mr Paterson putting up with rough neighbours."

"Yes, it would be so funny," Cindy admitted.

"That's the spirit! Now, one more thing. I've been thinking about the old folly, by my big reflective pond. Ages ago, my great grand-parents thought it amusing to have a hermit live there."

"A hermit?"

"There is a one bedroom hut behind the folly, hidden by the trees. My hermit can live in it, for a very cheap rent. In return, I want my hermit to work for me. There is a bell. When I ring the bell, I want him to caper and jest and be a clown for my guests."

"I've never heard of such a thing."

"You'll find it in the history books, dear. A bit old-fashioned, but I am an old-fashioned kind of girl." She giggled, a high, unpleasant noise that grated on Cindy's ears. "Now, the hut has plumbing, and electricity, not the damp cave of tradition. I will even provide the hermit with food and essentials. I only ask that in return, the man will stay on the property at all times, except for two days a week when I will allow him a bit of freedom. Also, I do not want alcohol, smokes or drugs of any kind in my little folly home. I like that area clean. A homeless man would do, or maybe an out of work actor. I'm sure you can find someone to fit the bill."

As Cindy left, she mused on the strange request. But she was sure that she could find someone easily enough to live in the folly house.

She noticed Mr Paterson and his wife watch her from behind their heavy insulated curtains. Well. Weren't they in for a treat? Cindy sniggered nastily. She had work to do.