Living in a house

It’s been just over a month since I moved into this house in Wisbech. I’m loving getting around town on my bike, which is very easy to do. My friends pop round occasionally too which is nice. The Russian woman who is always drunk or on drugs has emotionally adopted Jack. They can almost always be found on an evening sitting in the garden cuddling each other. Jack of course loves the attention so he’s like a pig in shit! The woman, who is about 22, clearly gets a lot from it so I leave them to it. Her ‘boyfriend’ is a married bloke in his 60’s who met her in Russia when he was working there as an engineer. He pays for her room and her keep, and her booze…

Another Lithuanian has moved in and there’s a story about him. So the east Europeans say, whoever leaves their country does so usually through an agency. The agency is part set up by the “mafia” and anyone who gains work here must pay them quite a large sum of money every month, or risk severe punishment. This lad won’t pay and so far he’s been run off the road once, and several men have been round looking for him on an evening. Two each stand at the two gates to the property while one comes to the door. We’ve been told they will never involve themselves with us, just other Lithuanians. Some medical and other belongings of one person were dumped at the door one night in a carrier bag. It seems he was beaten so badly he not only had broken bones, but also several internal injuries. What a world we live in.

My 'office' doors
My ‘office’ doors

Anyway, things are going well, I enjoy the company of the people, including the Dutch girl who is a scientist for Pedigree foods here. Very chatty and intelligent girl so we get along very well. The house manager is very odd. She often wanders around on an evening in just knickers and tights and a T shirt. The first time I saw her I looked twice and she turned to me and said “You can look but not touch.” As she’s about as sexy as a box of dead frogs sauteed in dog vomit I just smiled and continued my book.

Because of the mafia visits my friends have stopped coming round saying they are frightened. That’s a bit of a bummer, but hey ho. I find it slightly odd living here. Shopping for weeks ahead, hoovering daily, making  a bed, always having other people around. It’s not distasteful, just odd. I’ve made friends with the ‘Govt man’ next door and he’s actually alright. I can’t see why they all dislike him yet.

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