Business had been good so I'd decided to rent out my neat little ground floor apartment in the quiet cul de sac I'd lived in for the past 3 years. It was a nice area, "desirable" according to the estate agents, so I knew I'd have no problems letting it.
As soon as the ad appeared in the local paper I was inundated with phone calls. I wanted the new tenant to be female. I had this stereotypical idea that a woman would take better care of the place than a man. Not very logical, considering I was one of the untidiest people I knew. My excuse was I'd outgrown the space and that's why there was clutter and dust everywhere. Not today, however. I might live in a sought after area, but I'd seen enough daytime TV to know you had to make an effort when you were showing people around. So the usually discarded clothes were scooped from the back of the sofa and shoved into the wardrobe, shoes and books were pushed into cupboards and kitchen surfaces were bleached.
Lauren was the first person to view. Lauren Jauregui. I liked the name. It sounded a mixture of feminine and masculine, vulnerable yet strong. We'd arranged a Saturday morning, not too early (I like my beauty sleep), 11am to be precise. The other prospective tenants were scheduled to view after lunch. Lauren only lived the other side of town, just a fifteen minute hop by car, so when it got to 11.35am and she hadn't appeared I was surprised and a little irritated. Finally, at 11.45am, the doorbell rang.
'I'm soooo sorry,' she said sweetly. 'Traffic was horrendous. A bus broke down on the roundabout. Hope I'm not too late?' Her voice was breathy and I could see she was flustered. It was a hot, sticky day, with the sun blazing, horrible weather to be stuck in town centre traffic. Her shoulder length raven black hair was plastered to her forehead and tiny beads of sweat trickled down into the crevice of her luscious full breasts, pushed up to full effect by a plum red halter neck top.
'No worries,' I replied, 'I'm Camila. Come on in.' I gestured her through the door, noticing her long tanned legs, smooth and shapely under a short flared denim skirt.
'Glad you found it okay.' My eyes continued to travel downwards, admiring her turquoise painted toenails. She had pretty feet. 'Nice ankle bracelet by the way.' She smiled, the silver bells jingling lightly in time with the sway of her hips when she walked. 'Thanks. I like shiny things.'
'As you can see this is the kitchen. Small but functional.'
The walls were painted white with a hint of pear, with light pine units. I pointed out the fixtures, my mind elsewhere. 'Washing machine and freezer. Cooker. Sink. Microwave. All staying. The apartment is let as fully furnished.'
The window was wide open but the heat from the summer sun was still oppressive. 'Would you like a drink?' I asked, feeling very thirsty.
'Mmm, yes please. Something cold.'
I opened the freezer, the waft of chilled air very welcome. 'Apple and mango juice?'
'Great.'
'I'll put plenty of ice in it.'
She took it gratefully and sipped. A drop of the golden juice ran down her mouth, and I traced it's journey down her chin and graceful neck, onto her chest down to that deep crevice again. She noticed where I was looking and held me in her warm green eyes for a while, giving a playful smile.
'So how long have you been here? And why are you moving? Not because of some creepy neighbour from hell?'
I laughed. 'No, the neighbours are lovely and I'm not just saying that. An elderly lady lives one side and a young couple on the other. All pleasant people. I've been here three years and I shall miss the place, but needs must. What about you?'
