No Fixed Abode

I had a reasonable journey up on Monday, although the train was very late getting in to Paddington due to a `freight incident' somewhere along the line. It was 10.20 when I arrived in the office! Nearly an hour late on my very first day! I had quite a journey on the tube with my huge suitcase and two bags, plus my handbag. The case belongs to Arthur and is a real giant expanding one that would be impossible for me to carry so I borrowed some wheels from Arthur to tow it on. You just hook the handle on and pull, which means that the suitcase is sideways across, if you know what I mean. This is most definitely NOT suitable for the rush hour tube traveller and by the time I eventually arrived at the office I was a wee bit exhausted. They have double glass swing doors and the only way I could get in was to barge through at speed with the suitcase travelling at about 30mph behind me - so you might say I made rather a dramatic entrance! The first words I heard clearly above the general hub-hub of various versions of "what the hell was that?" were "Hello Fatso, do you want a coffee?" I knew then that I was back home. It is most strange really; I have slotted back into my little niche without any bother and find I am not really out of touch with anything. It is just like coming back after a holiday - picking up just where I left off - Great. My boss asked how I was fixed for money and said if I got into any difficulties to let him know and he would fix me up.

On Friday 20th October someone called Gillespies in response to my advert, and left his name and telephone number. Dennis (not the same Dennis as referred to previously) rang me in the Lord Mayor's Office (that's where I was working while living in Bristol) to tell me I had a nibble and that the chappie was ringing back again on Monday at 9.45am. However, as you know, on Monday I was late in and when he rang I had not arrived so he said he would ring again later in the day, which he did, and we made an arrangement to meet at Manor Park Station, North London, that evening at 6.45pm as he said he had a nice flat to offer me at only £13.50 per week, which is less than I was paying for my flat in Orpington (when I was last working in London - Over a year ago). So naturally I was very keen to snap up this bargain and turned up promptly at Manor Park Station at 6.45 to be met by the Estate Agent who said his name was Glen Hedley and who gave me one of his business cards, all nicely printed with his name and telephone number and the name of the firm, Central Estate Agencies - established since 1950.

He said the flat he was going to show me was over a shop but that as he had forgotten to warn the shop owners that he was bringing someone to view we couldn't get in as the shutters were down and he didn't have a key for the wicket gate. However, he said he had another flat which was just as nice but which was even cheaper which I could have a look at if I wanted and off we went to Forest Gate, just up the road, to view this second flat. It was lovely, a large lounge with a bedroom going off and the bathroom going off the bedroom. The kitchen let off the lounge and just inside the front door there was a separate toilet. Both the toilet and the bathroom and kitchen were tiled from floor to ceiling and the whole place was carpeted throughout and there were curtains up at the windows. The windows in the lounge were very nice circular, or rather a semi-circular bay. It was unfurnished apart from two easy chairs and the whole of one wall was fitted with a built in unit - Very nice indeed. We had to view this all by torchlight as he said the electricity had been turned off when the last tenants moved out. He asked if I liked it and said I could have it for only £13.25 per week with just two weeks money in advance. A dream! Too good to be true! I asked why, when accommodation was so very scarce in London, he still had this flat available as one would expect it to be snapped up at that price. He said it hadn't been advertised because the phones would have been ringing non-stop in the office and that they selected suitable tenants from the `Flats Wanted' ads, rather than have the nuisance of answering the phone to enquirers all the time. Sounds feasible I suppose. Anyway, I agreed to take the flat and he gave me the keys on the way back to his car but said I should ring up the office the next day and speak to a Mrs Martin and tell her I had seen the flat and had accepted it on the agreed terms. Mrs Martin would then tell me where I could pay the rent etc., but that meantime I could move in as soon as I liked. If I hadn't already booked in for Bed and Breakfast I might have been tempted to stay there overnight and doss down in the two easy chairs, but as I had already sent off a deposit to the other place I decided to go there at least for one night and see about this new flat the next day. Just as well I did as it turned out.

This Mr Hedley was kind enough to take me back to Liverpool Street Station where I had left my large suitcase and bags prior to going off to Manor Park Station, and then took me and my luggage over to London Bridge Station where I caught the 9.59pm train to Eltham Park. When I got off the train I discovered I had to go up some stairs and across a bridge and down some stairs to the opposite platform to get out. If it hadn't been for a kind old gentleman helping me with the suitcase I would still be there yet but although he was quite elderly, must have been about 70ish, he insisted on pulling my case on wheels right up to my lodgings, where we arrived at about 10.45pm much to the relief of the owner as she was wondering what had happened to me.

The next day I duly rang the office at 9.45am as I was told to do by Mr Hedley, but got no reply. I tried on several occasions through the day and although at times it was engaged, never once did anyone answer when the phone rang. This puzzled me but I thought maybe it was their phone out of order and was all set to go down that evening to see what it was like again but Dick advised me not to go down alone as he said it seemed a bit fishy to him and he suggested I go along to the Police Station and inform them I was going to the flat, just in case there was something wrong. I though he was being a bit over dramatic about the whole thing and went off to Liverpool Street Station to get the train down, then thought maybe it was a bit unwise, and by then I had developed an uneasy feeling about the whole thing myself too. So I went into Bishopsgate Police Station, which is opposite Liverpool Street Railway Station, and told them of my intention. They suggested I go along to Forest Gate Police Station as the flat was `on their Patch' and this I did.

The Policeman on duty took the card and tried the number and then got onto the GPO and after quite a wait they came back with the information that the number given was a public call box in Stratford! This made the copper more than a bit suspicious and we went in his Panda Car down the road to the flat where he tried the keys I had been given and found that although they fitted the lock they wouldn't turn - so I wouldn't have been able to get in anyway. However, he rang the bell for the other flats and got someone down to open the main front door. We then went down to the flat I had been shown round but before going in I was asked to describe it, which I was able to do without any difficulty of course. By this time, both the policeman and the other tenant were getting worried because they realised that someone, somewhere, had a key to enter the flat, and the policeman told the tenant to get the front door lock changed `first thin in the morning - pronto'. He also him who the flat belonged to and was told it belonged to the Council but that it had been on sale through local Estate Agent in Stratford. He knew where the Estate Agent was but couldn't remember the name. So…. Grace went for another little ride in the Panda Car to Stratford where we discovered the said Estate Agent's Office, Charles Living & Son. All this was duly noted in the copper's little notebook - yes, they really do have one! He then took my present address and telephone number at work and said he wanted to keep the card the man had given me as he wanted to make some more enquiries, but also said I could keep the keys I had been given, as a memento, but not to lose them in case they were ever needed in the future. He was of the opinion that I had a very lucky escape and was glad I hadn't actually paid any money over to the man. I told him he didn't seem to want any money, which does sound a bit strange I must admit. So now it is in the hands of the police and they said I would hear if anything came of it, but that if, by any chance Mr Hedley contacted me again I was to make an arrangement to meet him in the evening somewhere and then let Forest Gate Police Station know and they would tell me what to do, but I said that having given me false keys to the flat he was most unlikely to contact me again.

Grace Russ - 26th October 1978