Your Change is Coming

times. The prison treated them with drugs. Nowadays, prisoners have the opportunity to attend literacy groups and craft workshops."

  Jill returned from speaking to Jayne. She looked strained and tired. Jill sat next to Jeff with her head resting on his shoulder.

  "How is she?"

  "Jayne is finding it hard to cope with Jeff not being her biological father."

  "You had to tell her, Jill."

  "We've all made mistakes along the way, Jill."

  "I don't want to hear anything from you, dad."

  "Take it easy, sis. It's going to be alright. Just hang in there."

  It was a little bit uncomfortable Fred as Naomi and Jill refused to hug him.

  "Going home, Naomi," said Fred.

  "Yes dad."

  "Can't you stay a little bit longer, Naomi?"

  "No. I'm really tired, dad. It's been a hard couple of days. I'm going home to rest. I'll phone you when I get back, Jill. God bless you all."

  "It was good seeing you again after all these years, Naomi."

  "It will take us some time dad to be a family again."

  "Blood is thicker than water, Naomi."

  "I know."

  "You've hurt us, dad."

  "I know, Jill."

  "I'll take Naomi back to her place. It was good seeing you again, Fred."

  "It was good meeting you again, Mantel."

  "Take care of my baby sister Mantel."

  "I will, Jill."

  Twenty-seven

  The council stopped paying Naomi a salary and her contract of employment with them was terminated with immediate effect. She was struggling to pay last month rent. She used up most of her life savings to pay off the bills. The flat was becoming too expensive to run without a paid salary. The landlord preferred to rent out his flats to working people which ruled out Naomi as she was now claiming state benefits.

  The state housing benefits was not enough to cover the entirety of the rent exposing a shortfall and leaving her in debt. Naomi had only one decision to make. She had no choice other than to move out of her beloved flat. She hated the very thought of leaving her beautiful modern flat in the better part of Upper Ashworth.

  A few days ago she was forced to sell her car to cover the two month rental deposit for a dilapidated flat in Lower Ashworth and there was no more money left over for the removal cost. She left the larger furniture behind. The landlord had paid her a measly sum of £50 for dad's radiogram.

  The radiogram was in the family possession since the 60's. It held pleasant memories for Naomi. She remembered the time when the family was dancing to the tune of Alton Elis and Jim Reeves. The old radiogram was still in an immaculate condition. No different from the day it was first purchased. The exterior had a dark brown wood veneer finish. It was covered with a colourful wool material knitted by her mum's best friend. A basket full of fading plastic flowers rested securely onto the woollen knitted cover.

  Naomi's mum favourite ornament was a multi-colour shaped fish glass which sat next to the basket. It meant a great deal to her mum. She had brought the fish glass with her first pay cheque from IMI. Her dad was furious with her mum for buying it. He thought the glass was a useless juke fit to be thrown away. The glass held sentimental values to Naomi. Naomi refused to sell the fish ornament despite the landlord insistence on paying her a handsome sum. It was not for sale at any price.

  Naomi told no one about leaving Upper Ashworth. She felt ashamed and embarrassed for returning to Lower Ashworth. Naomi had felled on hard times and she had to relocate to a cheaper accommodation in Lower Ashworth.

  Today, Lower Ashworth is largely populated with Somali migrants and has an established settlement of older people from the African Caribbean and Asian communities. A small white student population lives in the area. Naomi loved the diversity of the area but the properties were decaying.

  It was the end of the rent week and it was time for her to leave. She reluctantly contacted Mantel who managed to transport most of her belongings to Lower Ashworth and he kindly drove her there.

  "Stop the car, Mantel."

  "Why?"

  "We are here."

  "Are you visiting a client, Naomi?"

  "No. I will be living here."

  "You are joking?"

  "I am living here from today and don't you be a snob, Mantel?"

  Mantel parked his car and he was nervously anticipating acts of terrorism. People from Upper Ashworth don't usually venture into Lower Ashworth after dark. There were prostitutes plying for trade on the same street where Mantel's car was stationed. They were half dressed ladies standing near the street kerb. Naomi pointed out the house to Mantel, "There it is."

  "Will you be safe here, Naomi?"

  "Don't be silly, I was a social worker, remember" and "Off course I will be safe here."

  "Yes. You were a social worker but you are an single woman living on her own."

  "You worry far too much, Mantel. Our families had once lived in Lower Ashworth when they first arrived in England. I lived on this street when my dad worked on the buses. I was about sixteen years old then. I grew up here. Why should I be afraid?"

  "I lived here too, remember. It was much safer in those days. We looked out for each other and everyone were friendly and you could leave your front door open."

  "Why don't you come inside and put your mind at ease, Mantel?"

  The property was at the far end of a row of dilapidated terrace houses. The external walls of the building were partially covered with dark brown cladding. The building was painted white many decades ago and some of the cladding from the building were crumbling away and had fallen into a heap below in the front of the window. The window frames were rotten and were unpainted showing its bare wooden timber frame. The net curtains in the reception room were mainly black showing a few patches of white. The internal surfaces of the windows were wet with condensation. There was a shopping trolley from Aldi's laying idly on its back blocking the narrow entrance to the house.

  "The building is in need of some modernisation and minor repairs. Time had stood still for this property in Lower Ashworth," said Mantel.

  "Stop being so polite and say it as it is. This building is utterly disgusting and the area is socially deprived."

  "It has potential. Don't you think?"

  "Don't be so patronizing, Mantel."

  "I can't afford to be too choosy about where I live" and "It's better than living on the streets."

  "I hear you. You are welcome to stay at my place only if you want to. It will be purely plutonic."

  "Speak for yourself, Mantel."

  "Pardon me."

  "I am just kidding."

  Naomi opened the front door by turning the key clockwise and at the same time pulling the door towards her. The front was door opened once the key was half way in the lock. The reception floor was thinly laid with bright red carpet. The carpet was marked with bold, black stains. The wallpaper in the reception area was decorated with patterns of tree trunks.

  As they climbed up the narrow stairwell, the bare wooden floor boards of the stair led Naomi and Mantel to the bedsit. The whole building smelt of damp and cigarettes. At the very top of the landing, Mantel was grasping for air and he provided Naomi with an insight into why the door was patched up.

  "The door has been damaged over the years because there have been numerous break-ins."

  "Thank you, Mantel. I can sleep safely in my flat."

  "How do you know that?"

  "My dad was a carpenter."

  "He wasn't called Joseph?"

  "No."

  "Don't get cross with me, Mantel."

  "I won't."

  "Wasn't your dad a burglar?"

  "I didn't know my father. He spent most of his life inside."

  "What was it like being without a father?"

  "It was hard to love others but luckily I found a number of father figures inside the church and they were all trusted by my mum."

  As they entered into
the bedsit there was a large double bed taking up most of the flat. The bed was dressed in a white king size duvet cover left by the previous tenant. The wardrobe had a dark brown wooden appearance and there were four pine wooden chairs with a matching table. The electric cooker had one ring and a single oven. Mantel noticed the numerous black moulds around the windows ceil.

  "This place is pretty bad for your health" and "What's on earth are you doing here, Naomi?"

  Naomi broke down in tears and cried out aloud. Mantel was shocked by the sudden emotional outburst from Naomi. He shouldn't have been surprise as his comments about the building were insensitive. He had never known Naomi to show any form of distress. She was far too cool for that. At her mother funeral she hardily shed a tear. He didn't know what to say or do. Like most men he did nothing and kept quiet hoping her cry will go away and everything would be restored back to normality.

  After a few minutes Mantel sprang up from his seat and walked over to where Naomi was standing and offered his handkerchief to console her.

  "This place will turn me mad. It's like facing a jail sentence. I'm tired of fighting life, Mantel."

  "This is now your temporary home, Naomi."

  "This place will never be my home, not in a millions years."

  "I agree with you, Naomi. It's a short stay and you'll one day find a more suitable accommodation."

  "Do you think I want to live here, Mantel? Do you think I have a choice of where I want to live?"

  "Is there anything I can do to help you, Naomi?"

  "Pass me another hanky."

  He wanted to hold Naomi in his arms and protect her from all of her fears. He had a strong emotional attachment to Naomi ever since they were kids. Mantel had to suppress his sexual feelings as an unmarried minister in the church.

  He knew that hugging Naomi