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Authors: Blair London

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BOOK: Young Squatters
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“Your
bed
?”  Nora wasn’t taking it well.

“How dare you come into my home and put items of your furniture in my home!  How you think you are going to get away with this is beyond me,”

“I think you will find when most people move into their new home they purchase their own furniture to make the place more homey.  When we viewed the property we were told some of the furniture would be staying, but the majority of it the owners would be taking with them.  Looking at the furniture, it is a bit dated so we wouldn’t want to keep it.”

Bradford had to have known he had really sent Nora over the edge with his last comment, and just stood there calmly while she hurled further abuse at him.

Around the corner, a police car finally arrived.  It parked where the U-Rent-It van had been, before their friend Abe had taken it back to the rental place.

Abe had been a true friend.  Bradford and he went back a long way, or so she had been told.  He was a tall, lanky young man with yellow teeth.  Bradford said he had a drug problem; what that meant, Harper didn’t know.  Bradford told her to stay far away from drugs of any kind, including alcohol.  He wouldn’t even let her touch his cigarettes, saying they would ruin her.  They hadn’t ruined him, but she had never thought to make that comparison, willing to listen to anything Bradford said.  Drug problem or not, Bradford had convinced Abe to help them find a van and use it.  Harper wasn’t sure how Bradford had convinced him, but Abe had eagerly agreed, happy to help his friend.

Bradford had been right; they had needed someone to help them with the moving van.  When it had all started with the old woman arriving, there was no way they could leave the house.  They had to stay there and act like normal new tenants.  She hadn’t wanted to leave Bradford alone without Abe’s help to deal with the real owners of the house, but like he said, it looked more realistic and professional to have someone driving the van away.  The plan had gone off without a hitch, so far.

A policeman got out of the car, sliding his baton into his gun belt.  He was a pretty big guy.  Harper was worried for Bradford now.  Maybe this really hadn’t been such a good idea.  She had seen one of her mom’s ex-boyfriends get tasered by the cops before, after she herself had called the police as he had tried to break into the house.  He had become all stiff and went straight down to the ground.  The cops had jumped on top of him, knocking the knife he had out of his hand and taking him to jail where he belonged.  She really hoped the same thing wouldn’t happen to Bradford.

As Harper studied Bradford’s face, she was relieved to see that he still looked relaxed and calm.  His sunglasses still perched on top of his nose.  All he really needed was a cigarette, but he had told her that smoking wasn’t professional.  If anything, from an outsider’s point of view, it looked like the old woman was the one who was causing so much of the commotion and was the one in the wrong.

“What seems to be the trouble?”  Harper thought they only said stuff like that on TV.  For a moment, Harper thought she should go outside to offer Bradford some support, but she knew it would unsettle him if she did.  He would be worrying about her, saying something wrong rather than focusing on what he was saying.  He had told her to stay put, so if she went into a state no one would notice.  She didn’t necessarily feel like she was going to go into a state, but her anxiety could come up at any moment.

Besides, Harper could hear everything that was being said from where she was, so she was fully aware of the situation.

“This
boy
says this is his house and that he’s moving in!”  The woman was screaming and pointing an accusing finger at Bradford.  “I want him arrested this instant!”

Harper watched the policeman size up both Bradford and the woman, and he asked them both for some identification.

The woman appeared to calm down and even managed to smile.

“Come on, kid, let’s see how clever you are now,” she said, straightening her skirt and shifting through her leather, brand-name purse for her wallet.  Harper liked her bag, even though she didn’t look like the right person to be carrying it.

“Don’t be so quick to jump to conclusions, lady.  Now let me show my identification for you, officer.”

Bradford knew the woman would be shocked when she saw what was coming next.

Bradford was playing it cool. 
He’s so cool. 
He took out his wallet and showed the man his driver’s license.

That part had been Harper’s idea.  She’d had a fight with her mother when she and Bradford got engaged.  Her mother had told her she was too young to get married, that she wouldn’t allow it.  “You live under my roof, you live by my rules!”  But Harper hadn’t backed down.  “Your house? It’s my house too!  It’s on my driver’s license. I own this house just as much as you do!”  Bradford had been there, he’d heard the whole thing.  It had given him an idea.

“You are a genius, my love,” Bradford had said to Harper later in the evening.

Harper had looked confused and wondered what she had said to make him think she was a genius.

“What are you talking about?  How am I a genius?”

When Bradford explained the plan of the driver’s license helping them to move into their new home, she had been over the moon at her part in their future plans.  He had given her a kiss on the forehead with pride.

The policeman looked at Bradford’s license, then at Nora’s license.  He pointed at her license, then at Bradford’s.  She was screaming at him.

“I want you to start moving your items off my property right now.  That also includes removing
her
,” Nora shouted while pointing her finger at Harper who stood staring at her through the window inside of the house.  Harper shrunk back a little, automatically looking at Bradford for reassurance.  Bradford, though, wasn’t looking at her.  He stared at the policeman, waiting for him to do something.

The policeman calmed Nora down, explaining to her that shouting and screaming at each other was not going to help the situation.

Nora agreed to stop shouting and asked the policeman what he was going to do.

“Look, lady.  All I can tell you is that your license doesn’t match this address, but his license does.”

Harper smiled to herself.  That was a stroke of luck.  She must not have been keeping her DMV records up to date.

Nora was livid; she was waving her arms around and started to scream at the policeman. 

“My husband takes care of all of the paperwork!  I’m sure he’s got all of the up-to-date documents!” she squealed, an edge of fear coating her voice.

“I’m sorry, lady, but your documents don’t show this address as being your place of residence.  It’s here in black and white.  You can see for yourself,” the policeman explained to her before handing her back the documents.

“But it’s my house!  We’ve been living here for five years!”

Nora was livid, she was screaming like a mad woman with her arms flying about everywhere.  She stumbled over her words, getting up in the officer’s face, practically begging him to take control of the situation.

“Have they taken anything?  Has anyone been hurt?”

Like Bradford had said, the policeman was trying to figure out if there’d been a crime committed.

Harper watched in admiration.  Everything was going exactly as Bradford had said it would.  He knew the police would be impressed with the documents, and it was an added bonus Nora didn’t have the correct documents.

Nora shrieked.  “I don’t know!  You think I went inside with a strange man?  You want me to get raped?” She was gasping for breath, clearly wondering how she had gotten herself in such a mess.

The policeman put his hands up defensively in front of him.  “Lady, unless he stole something or hurt someone, I can’t see he’s committed any crime.  His license says he lives here.  Yours says you don’t.”

There was more yelling and screaming from Nora.

“I’ve always paid my taxes and been a model citizen.  How can this be happening?” she asked, wiping at her eyes, which had tears of frustration in them.

“Ma’am, will you calm down and stop shouting at me?  You’re drawing attention to yourself.  If a crime has been committed, I am sure I will get to the bottom of it.”  The policeman was trying his best to calm her, but it didn’t appear to be working.

“When my husband finds out about this, he’ll sort this out.  You’ll be sorry, I can tell you that much.”

The woman took her mobile out of her handbag and dialed what Harper thought must be her husband’s number again.

“Are you getting any of my messages?  I need you home right now, Nick.  This is serious, come home
now!” 

CHAPTER THREE

 

As Nora ended the call, the word “frustration” didn’t even begin to describe what she felt toward Nick.  She frankly blamed the entire situation on him.  If
he
hadn’t sent Sarah home, she could have stopped the intruders.  If
he
would ever answer his phone when she called, she could make it to her Pilates class on time and everything would be fine.  If
he
wasn’t such a workaholic, if
he
would just listen to her, if
he
had the sense of a rock—she stopped herself, trying to calm herself.  Her toes and fingers had gone numb with adrenaline.  She’d had enough of this young man and his smug little grin.  He knew what he was doing was wrong.  He just had to.  The little woman he had in the house--in
her
house, for God’s sake!--knew something, too.  She could see it in both of their faces, but the officer offered her no help whatsoever, simply because she hadn’t changed her address on her driver’s license when they had moved here, a decade ago.

And Nick; Nick couldn’t even come home to help her with these welfare ruffians.  They tried to come off as middle-class, hardworking citizens, but Nora had known those people all her life, having grown up in that environment, and she knew that they surely didn’t belong to that group.  The boy had a stain on his white polo shirt and his khakis were about an inch too short for his long legs.  The girl didn’t even play the part at all; she was trash, he was trash, and the trash needed to be taken out.  Is this really what the world had come to?  Where squatters could break into a home and call it their own, not having to work for anything, having everything—including a million dollar home—handed right to their grubby little hands?  She didn’t think so, not in her world, at least.

And Nick would hear an earful once she was done throwing these intruders out of their house.

 

***

 

“You complain about me spending so much time in the office, Nora,” she knew Nick would tell her if she tried to voice anything to him.  “But you seem to forget money doesn’t grow on trees.  You want us to go on family holidays and you like luxury things to fill this wonderful house.  But if you would prefer me to spend more time at home with you and the kids, I can do that.

“I can find myself a nine-to-five desk job and be home for dinner every night with you and the kids.  But remember this: if I do take that job, then the lifestyle you have gotten so used to will have to come to an end, and cutbacks will have to be made.  So remember that the next time you give me a hard time for working so hard.”

Nora hadn’t raised the issue of the hours Nick worked again, as she knew he was right in what he said.  Even though she hated her husband spending so much time in the office, she wouldn’t want to give up any of the lifestyle they had.

But Nora had explained to her husband he should still be available to talk on the phone throughout the day, and this situation was a typical example of when she needed him and he wasn’t there for her, as usual. 
I will tackle this situation on my own,
Nora thought, and decided not to call her husband anymore.  She breathed in, and out, trying to calm her inner hysteria.  She was Nora Donnelly, and she would win.

 

***

 

Bradford invited the policeman into the house to take a look around.

Harper thought how confident and relaxed Bradford looked as he spoke to the policeman.  You would never dream they had done anything wrong due to his body language not giving anything away.

The cop agreed, talking into his radio as he followed Bradford to the front steps.  Harper watched them come up the walk, and heard the door in the foyer open.

As Harper watched Nora, she noticed the difference between Bradford and her.  Nora looked anything but relaxed and calm, although she had stopped screaming and had fixed her hair back into a neat bun, but that wasn’t surprising, really.  After all, Bradford had months of planning how he would behave when this situation arose.  Yet Nora had no idea what was happening, and her body language emphasized her frustration and confusion.

Nora followed close behind him.  She looked like she was fuming anger, but she didn’t say anything.

“This guy on the Internet told us we could live here.  Rent the place, you know.”  That was Bradford’s voice, and he came around the corner into the kitchen as he was speaking.  She turned around, leaning up against the counter.  He nodded to Harper and gave her a look that said,
Stay cool, baby
, and put his hand out to introduce her.  “This is my fiancée, Harper.  We’re expecting a baby.”

They weren’t, but Bradford had said that would sound better, if they told the cops and neighbors they were expecting a baby; just a nice, friendly young couple trying to get a start in life.

Harper recalled the conversation she had with Bradford about her being pregnant for this to work.

“But does that mean I have to fake being sick and pretend I’m tired and sick every morning?” she had asked.

Harper had been really panicking about faking being pregnant, and didn’t like the idea of having to look tired and sick every morning.  She was already ugly enough; she didn’t want to act even uglier.  She wanted to enjoy her future with Bradford in this house, and wanted to voice her concerns to him.

“Ah, babe, come here,” Bradford had said to Harper before giving her a big hug and kiss, nuzzling her neck with his nose.

“Of course you won’t have to make yourself look sick and tired.  Have you not heard of people breezing through their pregnancy looking healthy and not suffering from any morning sickness?”

Harper had to admit she did recall watching someone in a soap opera having a healthy pregnancy, but she had thought that was just made up for the soap.  But Harper wasn’t going to admit that to Bradford.

“Now you come to mention it, I have, babe.  Sorry, I just want to act my part and don’t want to get anything wrong.”

Bradford reassured Harper she would be great, and the most she would have to do is not lift anything heavy due to thinking of the baby.  That was fine, because Bradford did most of the heavy lifting, anyway.  Apart from that, she needn’t worry about anything else.

Harper remembered what Bradford had said and wanted to act like a newly pregnant mother.

The policeman tipped his crew-cut head to Harper.  “Miss.”

Harper put her hands on her flat belly.  “Hi, Officer. Is everything okay?”  Harper didn’t have to work hard to sound worried.  She was.  Couldn’t they go to jail for something like this?  Bradford gave her hand a squeeze before letting go of it.

“Can I see your I.D., Miss?”

“Sure, Officer.”  Harper picked up her Gucci bag—that had been a gift from Bradford, during the first month of their dating relationship—and took out her own driver’s license.  Like Bradford’s, it had the address of the Donnelly’s house on it.  She handed it to the officer.  “What’s the problem, Officer?  The owner said we could stay here.”  They’d mocked up emails between Bradford and a made-up owner that made it seem like they’d rented the house.  She thought they had covered everything, tied up every loose string, but her hands still grew sweaty as he looked at her documentation.

The officer looked over the license and handed it back to her.  “Thank you, Miss.  Are these your things?”  He gestured around the kitchen.

“Only what’s in the boxes,” said Bradford.  “We just moved in today, we haven’t had a chance to unpack.  I don’t know what
her
stuff is still doing here.”  Bradford hooked a thumb at Mrs.  Donnelly.

Nora’s mouth opened, then closed.  Then she couldn’t help herself.  She started shrieking again and the officer had to take her back outside and told her to stay there.  Harper could hear the conversation.  Bradford gave her a look and a wink.  She wished he wouldn’t have; how could he be so confident in their plan?

“Now I want you to stay out here calmly while I go back inside to talk to the young couple,” the policeman said to Nora.  “Do you think you can manage that?”

As the policeman stood watching the woman, waiting for a response, he stood frozen to the spot.

“I don’t know why you are saying I have done something wrong when those two in there are who you should be telling to be outside, not me.  It is
my
house.”

“Look madam, I want to sort this out as much as you do, but you have to let me do my job.  So will you stay out here while I go inside to speak to the couple and try to get this mess resolved?”

Nora agreed to stay outside of the house, but she looked irate.  Harper saw her take out her cell phone again then put it back in her pocket, staring up at the sky with pure emotional frustration.

Bradford showed the officer around the rest of the house.  In every room, it was the same story: the owners had told them they could move in and take over the place, like tenants.  No, they hadn’t signed a lease, it had been a handshake kind of a thing, an email agreement.  No, they hadn’t moved anything that belonged to the Donnelly family.  No, their own stuff was still in boxes.  They’d answered a rental listing on the internet.  This guy had told them they could move in right away, even took a deposit from them.  Bradford had even had the electric bill switched into his name, and he showed the policeman the utility statement he’d received.

Getting the electric bill switched to their name hadn’t been a problem.  Harper had handled that, because she had gone to that same utility company when her mom had forgotten to pay the bill on numerous occasions.  She just explained to the guy at the utility company that they were moving into a new house and taking over the electric bill.  He’d been happy to help set up a new account for them.  She and Bradford had used the utility statement to get their driver’s licenses changed.

Finally, the officer went back outside.  Harper could hear them talking from her place at the front door.  “Listen, Ma’am, I don’t know what to tell you.  Their I.D.s both say they live here.  Your I.D. doesn’t.”  He put up his hands as she hissed at him like a snake.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she snapped.  “Are you calling me a liar, sir?”

“No, Ma’am, I’m not calling you a liar, I’m just telling you what I know.  There’s no sign of forced entry.  The kid’s got a key.  Nothing seems to have been disturbed.  No one’s been hurt.  How am I supposed to know who’s telling the truth here?  I could get into a lot of trouble if I arrested him and he hasn’t committed a crime, you understand?  I’m just here to keep the peace and uphold the law.  Maybe he’s a victim of a scam?  It happens, you know.”

“Well you sure as hell better do something about this right away, or I’m going to get you fired!” she said, though the threat didn’t seem very scary.

“Okay, okay, listen,” the cop said, clearly trying to appease her and keep her calm.  “I’m gonna call my dispatcher and see what my lieutenant thinks.  Just stay calm, alright?”

“Stay calm?  Stay calm?” she asked, her voice reaching a pitch higher.  “I come home to find two kids have moved themselves into my home, and you tell me there is nothing you can do.  How can you stand there telling me to stay calm?  Don’t you know what is at stake, here?  Your job, for one.”

Nora was hysterical, shouting at the policeman who kept glancing at Harper through the window.  Harper tried to give him a sympathetic look.  Bradford sidled up near her, grabbing her waist and holding her close as they listened.

“I understand your frustration, madam, but I have to follow the letters of the law and there is nothing here to show a crime has been committed.  There is nothing I can do,” the policeman explained calmly to Nora, continuing a speech about her rights and what he was going to do.

Harper held her breath, turning around slightly to look at Bradford and her new home.  She did
really
like this house.  It was the kind of place she’d always dreamed of, the kind of place she’d seen in those Real Estate magazines at the gas station.  Four bedrooms, two-and-a-half baths, finished basement, big kitchen, lots of light.  She knew every nook and cranny of the house; they’d gotten a blueprint of it from the time it had been featured in a magazine as the “State’s Most Beautiful House.”  The yard was amazing, and the swimming pool with the hot tub—well, she just didn’t have words for it.  It was awesome.

She and Bradford would never have been able to afford this house, not on his student loans and her unpaid internship.  But Bradford’s dad had made a comfortable living for himself, and he was unemployed and a drunk.  Why couldn’t they do it, too?  Why didn’t they deserve to have a nice house like this?

And she really did want a nice house again.  She and her mom had lived in a nice house like this once a long time ago, before her father had left when she was just four years old.  After that, her mom had to sell the house, and she didn’t want another one.  Not that she couldn’t afford it. Harper knew her mom had made out alright in the divorce.  She hadn’t seen her father in years, but she’d seen the alimony and child support checks, and they were huge.  But her mom didn’t want all the work of keeping up a house, so they’d settled in a little two-bedroom condo out by the ski slopes.  That condo had turned into a mess, as mom’s new boyfriends just kept coming in and wrecking it with their sloppiness and beer cans and, in a few instances, marijuana joints.  Bradford would never do something like that to her; he would never trash this beautiful house, she knew that.

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