To Charlie and Ellis’s horror, Charlie had been wrong.
A week later, on a gloomy winter’s day, a real estate agent showed a young couple through. The wife looked pregnant, and Charlie guessed this would be their first house. His and Ellis’s once-beautiful home was probably going cheap.
Naturally, Charlie and Ellis kept a close eye on proceedings, if only because it was a touch of excitement in an otherwise unexciting existence.
“The price is great,” said the young man. “I just think it needs a little bit too much work. The baby’s due in a few months and whatever we buy will have to be ready by the time he arrives.”
“Or she,” added the wife.
The real estate agent, a portly man with a red complexion and matching jacket, harrumphed. “We can supply labour at an affordable price,” he said,
