In Residence

I remember the email popping up on the screen scaring the wits of me.

'Dear Rebecca.

''This abandoned property on Hamilton Way has potential to be stunning, but it needs work. A definite fixer- upper. If you and your team can get down there ASAP then that would be great.''

Many Thanks.

Chris'

Underneath the text was a link to the street view of the house. I remember looking at the picture and having to take a large mouthful of coffee. It was completely devoid of any colour. Two stories of dark grey brick, smashed windows and a splintered wooden door.

'Dear Chris.

''DEFINITE fixer- upper! Will get over there on Friday.''

Best Wishes.

Rebecca'

So me and the team headed down to the place on Friday. We all commented on the gloomy vibes emanating from the place.

'Property consists of a hallway, living room, dining room, kitchen, one downstairs bathroom, one upstairs bathroom, one master bedroom, one single room and a back yard with tire swing (need measurements).

''Furniture in the property consists of one functioning refrigerator only. There is also a built in cupboard in the master bedroom.''

''Upon arrival we noticed a peculiar smell coming from the upstairs bathroom. We do not know where in the bathroom the smell is coming from.'' ''The master bedroom window has been smashed by a tennis ball. We found the ball laying on the floor in the very far corner of the room and the cupboard doors swinging open.''

Splintered floor boards throughout the property.

Tire swing in the yard has been cut down.

Grass, shrubbery and foliage are incredibly overgrown.

I felt overwhelmed by the property. There was so much work to be done. I'll spare the details. We got the work done in nine months. At some point during that time I visited the neighbours house to ask them about the area and the property itself.

“We just want peace and quiet.” Mr Watson spat. “We don't want the residents of that house bothering us!”

“Why is that Mr Watson?” I asked.

“Because they're nasty people.” Mrs Watson answered for him.

I couldn't get any more information out of them. They obviously liked their privacy. I certainly wouldn't be talking to them again.

'Dear Chris.

''The reparations on the house have been completed (hooray!). Now all we need are cash buyers! Email me any details when you can.''

Best Wishes.

Rebecca'

The house had been done up superbly. The outside had been painted completely white. The plumbing was operational, the floors were fixed and the garden was no longer looking like a jungle. However there was one problem that we couldn't get rid of and that we hoped the family didn't notice. The smell in the bathroom. Within two days of the house being put on the market, a young newly-wed couple and their three year old child were eager to start a new life in the suburbs.

I showed Mr and Mrs Green around the property and they fell in love with it instantly. Spraying that bathroom with air freshener was a live saver. Within two weeks it was moving day for the Green family.

'Dear Rebecca.

''Just finished unloading the Greens' furniture into the property on Hamilton Way. I cannot stress enough how difficult this day was for us. Some old man and his wife rushed out of his house and started pointing his finger at us and calling us names while we were unloading the sofa! I'm not payed to get treated this way by a pair of old farts who have nothing better to do with their spare time. The Greens' were oblivious to it at first. They were too busy canoodling on the tire swing to even realise that they were shouting the place down. They certainly noticed when their kid burst into tears. The old couple eventually went inside after ranting to themselves about “the ones next door being too nasty”. What a stressful day! Anyway, what's done is done and they've moved in now right? See you on Tuesday.''

Thank goodness this day has ended.

Colin.'

The next time I saw Colin he continued to rant about the moving day. At least the couple were happy. They sent me regular emails on how they were doing and if there was any problems with the house.

'Dear Rebecca.

''The house is fantastic and my wife and I thank you dearly for sorting it out for us to live in. However there are a few concerns I wish to express.''

''Firstly, my wife has noticed an unusual smell coming from the bathroom. This was the subject of many jokes you may have guessed, but in all seriousness the smell is disgusting. I would compare it the smell of gone off milk. Please can someone come in and take a look?''

''Secondly, I was relaxing in the master bedroom and the cupboard door kept swinging open. Every time I tried to slam it shut it would open again a minute later. This needs to be fixed.''

''Finally, Mr Watson from next door has been acting out of the ordinary. I have noticed him staring in the master bedroom window at least three times a day. He just stands on the front lawn and gazes up through the window, sometimes when I'm standing there. It's become a problem. One time his wife stood with him and they were both pointing at the window looking very worried. My wife and I are disturbed by their behaviour.''

If you could get back to me soon then that would be great.

Many Thanks.

Lloyd'

I read the email and rolled my eyes. I gave him a call to try and resolve the issues. It was agreed that one of my team would go down there and address the problems with the house. As for the matter with the Watsons', I told Lloyd to talk to them. If they continued then Lloyd should call the police. Simple.

Another week passed and I received a second email from him.

'''Your man said there was nothing wrong with the cupboard door and that it was just a a draught. There is no draught in the master bedroom! He couldn't identify where the smell was coming from either, but these are the least of our worries. Yesterday evening my wife found a note in the garden that read:''

'We don't want you living here.'

''My son complained of tapping on his bedroom window in the night. This is ridiculous. If those creeps come near my house again, I don't know what I'll do.''

Lloyd.'

I replied straight away.

'Dear Lloyd.

''Have you tried contacting the police. I am deeply sorry this is happening to you but this is all the advice I can give. I recommend you phone the police immediately. As for the smell coming from the bathroom, I will arrange for someone to examine further. Apologies for any inconvenience caused.''

Best Wishes.

Rebecca'

At this point I was seriously concerned. The Watsons' were trespassing on the Green's property. They desperately wanted the family gone.

My concerns turned into worries. Lloyd phoned me the next evening. He said that he was playing with his son in his room when the pair of them heard a loud crash coming from the master bedroom. They hurried in there to find a hole in the window the size of a fist and a tennis ball rolling around the floor. The cupboard door was swinging wide open. When they ran downstairs they found Mrs Green crying her eyes out clasping a note she found on the kitchen table. It read:

'We really don't want you living here.'

The back door was open. Someone had been in the house. It was safe to say at this point that Lloyd finally called the police.

When the police arrived they found Mr and Mrs Watson sitting on their sofas in front of the TV with holes in their heads. Mr Watson had shot his wife in the left temple and then himself in the right. Resting in his lap was a small note with the words:

'Anything to escape the residents.'

Lloyd hung up the phone with a sombre goodbye. The next week he sent me a short message saying that him and his family were trying to start over in the neighborhood. I felt glad that things were working out for them. However, last week I did receive an email from them that still has me scratching my head.

The email included a photo of the master bedroom. The cupboard door was open in the background. In front of the cupboard was a cardboard box. The box was sealed up with tape. Scrawled on the side in black pen were the words In various bits and pieces. Finally leaving the house.' I scrolled down the page and below the picture was one line of text.

'We didn't want them living here'