Where does the good go?

Chapter 3

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" SHOUTS THE MAD MAN. 

He sounds English. What is he doing here? Did robbers stray so far away from their home country? Noticing I had nothing to protect myself with, I run behind the kitchen counter and try to think of things I could hit him with.

"If you don't come out and tell me who you are, I will call the police." He continues screaming, his accent thick. "Are you mad? I'm the one who should be calling the police. You broke into my house!", I shout, still hiding behind the counter in the kitchen. Better safe than sorry.

Silence. And then, laughter.

"You find a vacant house and call it your own? Get up right now or I'm calling the police, you sneaky little thief," he threatens.

What is he talking about? Is he a psychopath? Am I going to be murdered in broad daylight on my very first day in a different country? Holy cow.

"Excuse me? Just who do you think you are? I signed a lease with the landowner! This is my house for the next year! I'm calling the police right now." I jump up, holding the saucepan at him.

He looks at the saucepan and then at my eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Hello, Miss. Narky, the rightful owner is standing here." He pauses, "Someone's played you. And I suggest you keep the saucepan down before you hurt yourself."

What? What is Narky? 

And this is Paul's house! I even saw pictures of him in the living room. "Isn't Paul White the rightful owner?" I ask confusedly, still pointing the saucepan at him.

Silence.

He squinted his eyes for a minute. What's happening? Is he going to kill me? Should I have called the police already?

"How do you know Paul?" he questions. "Oh! So you know Paul! Where is he? Did he send you here? He did say he has a set of spare keys with him." He takes a long pause before he says, "Paul is dead."

"What did you say?", I know exactly what he said.

"Paul is dead, I'm his nephew", he says and looks at me, his eyes piercing. "He put my name in the will", he continues.

Before I process the new information, I quickly scan him from top to bottom not having looked at him properly earlier. He stood tall, about 6 feet with a broad chest. He must have a kick-ass workout regime! Though he looked like he could be in the Army, his messy dark brown hair says otherwise. His pronounced jawline could do well with a little facial hair though. He is definitely English. I look at his Adam's apple when he clears his throat. I quickly look up and make the mistake of looking too deep into his eyes and notice how it reminds me of chocolate and home.

Home. Oh crap! How is mum gonna take this news?

"How did he die? He just went on a world tour", I softly ask. He sighs and pulls out his phone to show me a copy of a death certificate. Thank God it's in English! It says he died on April 21, 2017. That was the same day he was supposed to start his journey to Sri Lanka.

Oh man, he was really sweet and supportive throughout the entire process of shifting here. I think about the little note he left me on the fridge.

"How did he die?", I ask slowly. "He died in a car crash on the way to the airport," he says and looks at his phone in frustration. "When did you sign the lease? The lawyer didn't tell me anything about it." "A couple of weeks before he died" I reply quietly.

He quickly calls someone on the phone and stares at me as he puts the phone on his ear. I look down at my hands and contemplate what to do next. Could he kick me out of the house? It is his house now. What if he wants to live in it? Shouldn't he give me a notice period though? I hope he can return my money in a single installment before I'm asked to leave. I could rent another house. But where am I going to find a house in such a short period? It needs to be close to work! I can't afford a car and I most definitely can't bike my way back home in the middle of the night if it's too far away. 

Holy cow, what am I going to do?

He suddenly speaks, "Goedenavond meneer De Vries. Waarom werd mij niet verteld over het huurcontract dat op het huis was ondertekend?" Waahhh? Did he just speak fluent Dutch? Was that Dutch though? It must be.

He listens silently and I notice a small inverted v forming between his eyebrows as he starts frowning, "Dat is onverantwoord. How can you assume something like that? Hoe kan ik dit meisje nu eruit schoppen. I need to live here now, you know that!", he shouts angrily and looks at me sharply. 

Shit. I was right. He's planning to kick me out. Two days in Amsterdam and it's already in a nightmare situation!

How will I live on the streets? One day away from home and it's already turning into a nightmare. Oh, God. I look at him and he looks like he's ready to explode. If I didn't have to worry about dying of pneumonia on the streets, I would have laughed.

"Wait", he says. Did I say that aloud? Shit, I hope not.

He looks at me and pulls the phone away from his ear and says to me, "My lawyer is on the phone and he wants to speak to you." Oh God, they're going to kick me out, crap crap crap! He snaps his fingers on my face and growls, "Can you talk or not?" Jeez, I'm not the one kicking you out asshole. I nod my head anyways and he puts the phone on speaker.

A silky voice with a thick Dutch accent calls out to me, "Miss. Isabelle Cooper? I'm Aart De Vries, the advocate of Mr. Thompson" I look up quizzically, Thompson? The angry man in front of me rolls his eyes and mouths, 'That's me'. Of course, it's you! I roll my eyes in return, and he narrows his at me. What? He can roll his eyes and I can't? Like I said, asshole.

I quickly turn to the phone and say, "Hello Mr. De Vries, I have already paid a year's lease to Paul. Can you return my money in one installment and give me the 2 months' notice? I can't find a house this quick." His reply laugh sounds like an angel and he says, "No schat, unfortunately Mr. Thompson has money in a uhh non-refundable investment. So you can stay."

Pheww!

"Doch, uhh but I made lease agreement for you and Mr. White. Clause 8 states, 

'The tenant agrees to let the landowner and his family stay with her whenever they deemed fit and they split bills for 'Water, gas, electricity, groceries and other necessities'. 'The tenant in return gets an additional month in the original lease for every time she shares the property with the owner and his family.' "

He must have read that last part out to be so fluent but HOLY MOTHER DEAREST.

HOW DID I FORGET THIS?! Mum and Paul had made me agree to this particular clause so Paul could come back from his vacation and live with me comfortably. But who knew his nephew was going to barge in?

Now I know why this Mr. Thompson is angry, I look at him and see him concentrating his third eye to incinerate me. What have I gotten myself into? "I hope that you understand. Call me please if you want to leave, goedendag", he continues and hangs up.

Did he just call me good a dog in the end?

I don't care! I have bigger problems! Why can't this guy go somewhere else? Why am I of all people getting screwed here?

Before I can look up and ask him what happens next, he shoves his phone into his pocket and runs upstairs and shut the door with a loud bang. I quickly follow him and notice he's in the spare room and I'm relieved.

At least I would be getting the better room in this new living arrangement. Wanting too badly to crash after a small shower, I decide to unload the groceries first and go put everything I've bought in its place. I notice mum's cookie jar and decide this is surely a situation in need of those special cookies. It takes great willpower for me to close the jar after reaching out for just one cookie but I know it is worth is. It will be if I have to live with this asshole for not just one, but two years now.

I mean what is his problem? He couldn't even speak to me now that we were going to live in the same house? How are we going to live together? Cook and eat? Share food and the bathroom?

Oh, shit the bathroom! I just want to scream at the top of my lungs now!

Guess what's stopping me? My stupid, rude, angry roommate.

AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW HIS NAME!