The World is a Smaller Place/Whose
Baby are You, Babe?
These stories were first published in the STORYCUTS series by Transworld Digital 2011
Taken from the collection Summer Promise and Other Stories.
Copyright © Elvi Rhodes 1991
Elvi Rhodes has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Cover
Copyright
The World is a Smaller Place/Whose Baby are You, Babe?
The World is a Smaller Place
Whose Baby are You, Babe?
Backmatter
We hope you enjoyed these stories. If you want to read more stories by Elvi Rhodes, try her other contributions to the Storycuts series such as
Channel Crossing/Roundabout/The Meeting 9781448125494
A Time to Remember/Model of Beauty/View from Beacon Hill 9781448125500
Meet the New Caroline Pritchard/The Centre of Attraction 9781448125449
Alternatively, read the original parent collection, Summer Promise and Other Stories 9781446487464.
The World is a Smaller Place
HE PUSHED OPEN the door and came towards her, smiling. Ruth thought how different he looked from most of the academics she met. They tended to be pale, and thin to the point of emaciation, as if trying to identify with their students.
It was a pleasure to see someone who actually had colour in his skin and looked big and solid enough not to be blown over by the strong wind which swept across the campus from the moors. She smiled a welcome.
‘Professor Cadman! Did you find anything?’
‘I’m afraid not, Miss Peters. Either they’d been taken just before I arrived, or they were really too big; more suitable for a married man with kids.’
His voice was big, too. As if he used it in wide open spaces. But not the strident type; it had a deep, musical quality about it.
‘I’m sorry,’ Ruth said. ‘Accommodation’s so difficult. And of course we have to give priority to the students.’
‘I understand that. Well, I daresay you’ll let me know when something turns up. Thanks for your help.’
She didn’t want him to go. She was tired, and needed to get away on time so she could change and freshen up before the choir rehearsal; even so, she found herself delaying him.
‘Just let me have another look through the cards. I’ve been out seeing prospective landladies this afternoon. It’s possible that something’s come up in my absence.’
She flicked through the card index while he leaned across the counter.
‘Hm! I wonder …’ She noticed that Mrs Butcher’s flat was empty again. Mrs Butcher didn’t keep tenants long because she organized them into doing running repairs on the place. Professor Cadman, however, looked tough enough to hold his own.
‘There’s one here which is comfortable. But if you’re not careful, the landlady will use you.’
‘Use me?’ He raised his eyebrows. Ruth smiled. ‘I mean, you’ll find yourself painting the kitchen or mending the fence.’
‘Oh well, if that’s all … How do I get there?’
She glanced at her watch. Almost half-past five. ‘It’s a bit awkward by public transport, but it’s on my way home. If you can wait five minutes I could give you a lift.’
Twenty minutes later they were standing on Mrs Butcher’s doorstep, waiting for her to answer the bell. ‘If your face doesn’t fit, you’ve had it!’ Ruth warned.
But his face did fit. So did his voice, because it reminded Mrs Butcher of a soldier from New Zealand she’d known during the war.
‘You’ll be comfortable here,’ she said. ‘You can move in tomorrow if you want to.’
‘Now I really must go,’ Ruth said when they’d settled the details. ‘I can give you a lift as far as the bus stop if you like.’