Farty's Fortunes

Monday, 11 February 2008

The Circle Game

Little Miss Farty is moving back in with us.

She first moved out when she decided to move to the Big Sprawl at the tender age of sixteen, to live with her SMS boyfriend. I still vividly remember her wee arm waving out the window of the removal van as they drove away. But after a year or so spent in 'Nam (Tottenham), working as a checkout girl, she was back. London didn't suit her, so she waved goodbye to bf and caught the train back to the Burgh.

Then there was a brief stint in her best friend's flat. Sleeping on the floor suited her a lot less than a bed, so back she came - after just a couple of weeks this time.

That was followed by a council flat. She had to claim that we'd thrown her out so that the council would move her to the top of the housing list. I think it was a council employee who let her in on that trick. She stuck it out for a year in what my Dad would have called a "multiplied flat", better know to the rest of us a a multi-story tower block: full of druggies and their dealers, schemies, neds (non-educated delinquents) and assorted riff-raff, so that she really wanted to leave, but the council had promised that they would knock it down and rehouse the tenants in some really nice new houses.

So she held on there for a second year, suffering a burglary in the process, but still there was no sign of the promised demolition. Occasionally a girlfriend would move in for a while, but they always fell out with each other eventually.

Then came the terrified phone call - a drunk/nutter was trying to batter down the door, looking for his girlfriend Suzie, who LMF had never heard of. We arrived just as the police were dragging him away, but it was scary enough that she decided to go. Not back to us this time, but close by, to a private landlord. And then the council confirmed thay're pulling down those flats after all.

Sure enough, within a few months she'd fallen out with yet another flatmate and decided to move to the Kingdom of Fife, north of the river Forth, because it would be more convenient for her job in, er, Embra - south of the river. Go figure.

Still, by this time she'd decided to become a nurse and started training, so at least she was/is making something of her life. And then she met D.

D is mental. D is a drummer in a band. D is divorced. D is nearly five years older than LMF. D is bald. D is not afraid to wear his girlfriend's clothes. D is quite possibly the best thing that has ever happened to LMF. From the very moment they met, they just clicked. Within a week, she introduced him to us and we just clicked.

They hunted together for a place they could call their own. And found it. It was perfect. It was near both her work and his. It didn't need to be redecorated right away. It had rooms and that. But their mortgage provider, unusually for someone in his profession, told them that they couldn't afford it. He didn't want them to get thrown out into the street when the bank foreclosed. Three days later came that sub-prime mortgage collapse. Whew! That was close.

So they moved in with bf's mum and dad to save on the rent. Then they got engaged. Then they started getting on each others' tits. And now, this week, LMF is coming home again.

Except this time she's not alone.

Blonde On Blonde



Julie Midas said...

Wishing you all the very best of luck. I moved back into my parents' home for a brief few months in my early twenties and found myself gritting my teeth and biting my tongue on a daily basis. I suspect most people are slightly more tolerant than me and my mum, though!

Mr Farty said...

Julie - I'm sure we'll get on like a house burning down!