The Bedsitter (Fiction)

Miss Sevenpenny yawned, loudly, despite there being no-one really around to hear her. The first yellow strikes of daybreak had become  visible about an hour ago, but were rapidly becoming lost in the grey mist and cloud which were descending on the town. Street lights now being to dip down from night operation and the early morning traffic was being to make it’s presence felt. She looked wearily through the gap in the tatty curtains and through the grimy window and looking at the house opposite, curtains were still drawn and as she expected there had been no visitors at anytime during the night. Her eyes lids hung grey and heavy nearly hiding her eyes which were now clouded over and lacking their usual bright spark. 9 hours she had been watching the opposite house and so far nothing had come by. She tightened the blanket which hung around her shoulders to a bit of added warmth. It was a slight symbolic gesture more than anything else, the only way she was going to get warmer now was when her duty was over and sleep would be granted. She looked out the window and saw a milk float park at the end of the street and the familiar green uniformed middle-aged man climbed out ready to begin the next part of his round.


“During the course of the night, there were no visits to the house directly, nor were there any signs of any parcels or communications being dispatched covertly. During the night a Barn owl did some successful hunting and a fox attempted to leap into the garden and get the trash,” dictated Sevenpenny into a small tape recorder. She looked out the window and smiled to herself before continuing. “The milkman called at 07:45 and delivered three pints of skimmed milk, one full fat and what looked like a bottle of cranberry juice instead of the usual semi-skimmed. This means either one of the house hold has turned vegan or they forgot to buy any cereal for their breakfast-”

“I’m not sure One-Ten would approve of your use of security equipment as a testing ground for your expansion into stand-up.” Interrupted a familiar, and annoyingly upbeat and cheerful voice from behind her. Sevenpenny turned around and smiled as Arthur entered the room with a satisfied smile on his face. She glared at him, no body in their right mind has the right to be that cheerful at this time in the morning.

“I see you got a good night’s rest,” she said wearily.

“You aren’t going to be taking any prisoners today are you?” He replied with a small chuckle. “How did the night shift go?” he added.

“Swimmingly,” Sevenpenny hissed indicating the condensation on various surfaces in the room.

“Ah well I came prepared for such an occasion,” Arthur replied cheerfully and produced a large take-out coffee cup he’d hidden behind his back and handed it over to Sevenpenny who enthusiastically wrapped her cold hands around the warm body. “This’ll dissipate the damp for you,” Arthur added in a much more serious. “Large double shot gingerbread latey, your favourite.

“It’s pronounced latte,” she smiled playfully kicking him in the shin and took an enthusiastic mouthful of the warm content and swallowed almost immediately. She rolled her tongue around her mouth and quizzically raised an eyebrow? “Double shot gingerbread latte??? There’s definitely something else…. did you put brandy in it?”

“I just put a drop in, being a dreary misty morning and all that.”

Sevenpenny smiled, “I should have you reported for spiking my drink.”

Arthur laughed, “that’s my girl. Now get yourself some rest you look awful.”

“Charmed,” she muttered and gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. “All the notes for the evening are clearly labelled. Hodgkins said he will report to you about the wire tap at some point in the morning.” With that she departed and headed down the creaking stairs with all the grace of a herd of buffalo.

Arthur smiled and looked at the set up in front of him. A Digital camera with a motion sensor was set up hidden by an old wardrobe and in true old fashioned style there was a pair of binoculars hanging on the wall. Despite being in the first quarter of the twentieth century, One-Ten still favoured the tried and trusted methods of the Cold War. Arthur looked at the state of the room, the Cold War was probably the last time this room had been used.


In response to the Word of the Day Challenge. The Word was Spying

Feel free to give me feed back on the prose. Thanks,

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