Since Naomi Campbell's mother had moved out, she'd noticed countless things about the house she lived in, the extra panel of skirting board in the matchbox sized kitchen, the damp growing its way up the wall of the bathroom, the crooked doorstep which frequently sought to throw people off of it. The attic. She supposed that it was because the little yellow house she'd grown up in was now solely hers.
Her slender fingers drew to the walls of the attic as if drawn to its imperfections, the dips, the dents, the pieces of small jagged paper browning on them. She asked herself why she hadn't walked these floorboards before, why she hadn't smelt the mustiness of this hidden room, which would flourish with a bit of paint and Pledge, before. Before long, her mind began to position cabinets, lamps, clocks and even beds around the spacious floors, a large smile cultivating on her face as the idea for where she could stick the lady, who would be coming to stay with her soon, came into existence.
The very next day, Naomi found herself on the phone to builders, cleaners and decorators. The prices had been ludicrous, especially to the ears of one whose financial state lay in such turmoil. So the blonde had gone out, brought a few buckets of beige paint, some overalls and a few brushes. Sure, the attic wouldn't be finished by the time the lodger arrived, but the sooner the better as far as Naomi was concerned. Just knowing that she could eventually start to move around the house she'd grown up in more freely, once the lodger was living up in the attic, was piece of mind enough. She'd never seen herself living with a complete stranger, certainly not, because Naomi could hardly even stand living with her own mother, not that her mother was ever a nescience…besides letting the whole of Bristol move in with them in Naomi's teenage years, and perpetually spending the mortgage money on slot machines…and eventually posting the internet ad for a lodger behind Naomi's back, only to break it to her icey-eyed daughter that she was going to be moving out to go and live with her boyfriend, Kieran, anyway.
"Sweetheart, we need the money. The house goes under without it." She had told her fist-scrunched daughter, so casual as the breeze.
Naomi's eyes had blown wide at that, hands flying in expletives. "Fuck mum, there are other ways we could've made the money. But no, you had to invite a complete stranger into our home – and to make matters even shittier, you're now fucking off to live with Kieran and leaving me to face the brunt of this axe murder, who's gonna be kipping in my old room."
Gina had frowned and then smiled. "Darling, I interviewed heaps of people whilst you were at work. I made sure I picked a girl. A harmless little redhead."
"Yes, whilst I was at work, you sneaky old cow! You should've told me you were moving someone in. I cannot believe you wouldn't see that as something you'd have to inform me of. Now I'm going to have to suffer the company of someone I do not know, gonna have them walking in and out of rooms whilst I'm doing my work, have them getting under my feet. Thanks mum. Thanks a fucking bunch."
Gina's hand had flicked, as to trivialize her daughter's freaking out. "Oh don't be so anti-social Naomi. You had me as a mother; you should be used to having to live with strangers by now."
Naomi had left the room at that point, hearing her mother assuring her that it'd all turn out fine before leaving.
No, Gina wasn't a nuisance, as far as Naomi would put it. She was irresponsible. Sometimes the 26 year old blonde would question how such an irresponsible woman such as Gina could have ever been entrusted with a baby. She would've asked God what he was playing at if she actually believed there was one.
There couldn't be, not when she had just had her car stolen and been demoted all in one fell swoop of unfortunate events. So now a stranger was coming to live with her tomorrow, coming to share the same space as her, to contaminate it. After all, that was what people did wasn't it? Contaminate things.
But Naomi had a smile on her face as she opened the door to the small, red haired girl standing on the doorstep with two bags at her feet, because the attic was nearly complete, and she had every intention of making sure that she hardly ever brushed shoulders with the stranger now offering a hand out to her.
"Hi. I'm Emily." The fiery haired girl, who couldn't have been anymore than…12 in Naomi's estimation, smiled bright. "The lady who showed me around before, told me she had a daughter. Nice to meet you." She continued once Naomi slipped her hand into the one waiting.
"I'm Naomi. And sorry, the lady who showed you around this place isn't with us anymore. So you're just stuck with me." The blonde sighed.
Emily frowned in sympathy, not quite sure where and how to put the limbs of her body all of a sudden. "Oh…Erm, I'm sorry for your loss Naomi."
Naomi's body began to dance with small laughter, and Emily took notice of how the blonde hair growing from Naomi's head jingled like the bells at Christmas.
"Oh no. She's not dead." Naomi waved her hand, still chuckling, and out of the side of her mouth she muttered."Unfortunately."
Emily laughed. "Surely she's not that bad. She was an extremely nice, funny woman when I came to view this place. Don't be such a meanie."
As the short girl nudged her with playful admonishment and stepped past her into the house, Naomi stood halt, taking a deep breath. This was it, she was really about to commence to living with a stranger. In that exact moment she told herself she'd be up in that attic all night if she had to. Anything to speed up the process of sticking Emily up there sooner.
Emily's eyes slowly rose from the clothes in her bags to the blonde standing tower over her. A quiet, awkward moment passed and when the locking of blue to brown birthed unbearable tension, she asked. "Erm…can I…help you with something Naomi?"
"Yes," The blonde replied, chest puffing with certainty. She uncrossed her arms and dropped her eyes to the bags resting just next to Emily on the bed. "I'd like you to empty out all of your belongings on the bed please, and then empty your pockets."
"…Erm…I don't know what your mother told you, but I don't get kinky until at least the second date." Emily quipped, a grin accompanying it.
Naomi frowned, not knowing how to take the redheaded stranger's words, but just knowing that her request was being declined. "Look Emily, you don't know me and I don't know you, but one thing I do know is that you are not going to be strangling me in the middle of the night, or shooting me whilst I'm in the back garden pulling weeds, or ending my life in the various other ways that the weapons, which you may or may not have in those two bags, are capable of."
Emily raised her perfectly crafted brows, the giggles swirling in her chest lessening when she began to realize that this woman was actually serious. She didn't give it too much thought, just smirked and shrugged to herself as she rose to her feet and began emptying the two bags out all over the bed. They both gazed the colourful mess then, an mp3 with a web of earphones sticking out of it, photos, letters, the crescendoing colour of clothes.
Emily looked at Naomi like the blonde was the mental patient everybody stayed clear of, and raised some fingers to fiddle with an ear. "Would you now like to check behind my ears for concealed blades?"
If there was one thing Naomi didn't agree with, it was people laughing…especially when she wasn't and especially when it was directed at her.
This Emily was already starting to irritate her.
She tilted her head on its side to consider Emily, in mock of the genius of the redhead's suggestion. "Actually that's a great idea. Spread your arms and stand up straight so I can quickly frisk you." To her surprise, the other girl's entire face lit bright with a grin and she was stood up straight with her arms out to her sides in less than a second of being dished the sarcasm.
"Frisk away." Emily said, and suddenly Naomi's ears lost their virginity to the silky, deep husk of the redhead's voice.
She stood there, face to face with brown eyes, not knowing what to do about being called on her bluff, and promptly flinched out of Emily's grasp when she was suddenly looking at her long fingers resting against the grey of this stranger's hoody, courtesy of the stranger having placed them there.
"Well if you've changed your mind." Emily shrugged, turning back round to begin sorting the stuff splayed out on the bed.
"You still haven't emptied your pockets." The blonde quickly recovered, causing Emily to smirk at the fact that the seemingly prim woman standing behind her still had some feisty in her.
"I'm not emptying my pockets, so what are you going to do?" Asked Emily, hair momentarily lifting like a skirt mid-twirl, as she quickly turned back around.
Naomi didn't know how to respond to that, just didn't have the answer in her and if there was one thing that Naomi liked it was answers. That way there were no problems. Unfortunately for her, her mothers answer to their money problem was just another fucking problem. A, harmless, little redheaded problem, or so it seemed.
Emily wasn't looking at her with belligerence or confrontation, but with just a simple interest as to what was going to happen if she did not do as Naomi said and empty out her pockets.
"You have a little bit of the control freak in you, don't you?" Asked Emily, hitting Naomi out of the deep blue with it, but once again she was quick to regain her wits.
"And you have a bit of the rebel in you, don't you? Red hair?" She raised her eyebrows to suggest how ridiculous the idea of luminous scarlet hair was.
"I like to stand out – and calm, Naomi. Calm. I wasn't attacking you with what I said. Was merely an observation."
Naomi shifted out of uncomfortableness and her arms reformed across her chest. "Yeah well, if you need to know anything, give me a shout. I'll be in the room opposite…with my door open so I can watch to see if you're doing anything less than kosher. Ok?"
Emily smiled, like she wouldn't expect anything less from the frowning blonde, and sarcastically quipped. "Where did all the trust between us go?"
Naomi muttered something indicative of complaint and skulked off out of the room, leaving the redhead to finish unpacking and explore the rest of the house.
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