– We heard that the Original Founders may give us a Christmas Eve visit. How very kind. You must forgive us, we did not have time to bake any mince pies.

The man laughs to himself and gestures through the open door and they all walk in, in silence.

1989

Flat 8F8

Ivor (37) deathwatch beetles

IF THE tenant in 9F9 opened her front door right now, she would see two legs dangling from the hatch on her landing. Then, she would see the legs disappearing, as the attic hatch on the top floor of No. 10 Luckenbooth Close thuds shut. Only footprints would be left on the walls. Size eleven. Ivor is not a small man. He hauls himself up onto the attic floor. His eyes are bloodshot, his hangover is giving him the heebie-jeebies and his stomach muscles burn from the effort of pulling himself up.

It’s been a bad day.

Ivor lays back, breathing hard.

The cavernous attic is covered in tall grass.

He stands up.

It grows almost up to his chest. A cold breeze ripples through it, reminding him of hayfields swaying in the wind when he was a child. On the far wall there is a huge, old, open fireplace. Next to it there is an armchair with burst foam and rusted springs exposed. An old suitcase acts as a makeshift table. On top of it are the indecipherable remains of what might have been a squatter’s lunch. On a dirty windowpane, someone has drawn an outline of a monkey. There is a single small gas-cooking hob. It’s the kind that would be used for camping. It has rusted too. Ivor tramples down grass. Flattens a route through to the chair and fireplace. He looks down. The woman in 9F9’s water cupboard must be just below here. A wee bit of light filters up where she has left the cupboard door open. He could drop right down into her flat from the attic. Ivor has heard about that. People living in other people’s flats in cupboards or other unused nooks, eating their food while they sleep, watching their telly, taking a bath, sneaking down their hallway past them in the night – sometimes for decades. Ivor read about a woman who was found sleeping in someone’s airing cupboard. The woman claimed she’d lived there for over thirty years and therefore could not be evicted. She had wired into the mains and had a wee telly in there and everything. Ivor feels lucky that he would never have to do that at least, or sleep rough. His sister has taken him in without question. Where would he have gone otherwise?