Weekend break
Five doors closing quietly in the early morning. Five couples crossing the threshold, moving out to merge with an outside world still gathering itself for another busy day. Five fingers pressing keys on five screens showing silver against the early morning sun. Text messages fly from five cities set far apart across a big country, snow already dusting the mountains visible to the north of one, the last leaves of autumn holding out against their inevitable descent in another, defiant red flags fluttering in the early breeze.
On the review site the pages wake to new information; more satisfied guests, more favourable comments, more glowing testimonials to time well spent, convenience, cleanliness. Five successful transactions; after the handling fee five owners will feel quietly satisfied that their sacrifices have begun to bear fruit, their investments to pay off. It’s not always easy giving up your home to strangers but there’s some satisfaction beyond the financial to know they have valued it in their temporary way while you have the longer-term satisfaction of ownership. No need for booking and juggling with dates; it’s your space for the taking whenever you wish. But right now it’s a nice start to the week, a little Monday morning bonus.
By now the couples have merged with an outside world, been caught up in the stream flowing towards buses, trains, metro. Carried across cities at different speeds, in different directions, but always moving away from their epicentre. As if driven by a hidden centripetal force , thrown faster and faster against the sides of the world beyond their temporary weekend homes. Fading too at the same speed will be the memories of that weekend; the music and dancing, the theatre audiences leaning their hammering brows towards the stage, the clatter of conversation and cutlery in restaurants, the walks in the afternoon parks and the galleries and museums. All fading now, five sets of experience packaged up and waiting for transportation to somewhere new, to be exchanged as part of five conversations still to be held in other locations, with other people.
Not much left behind in the residences, those temporary homes for five pairs. They’ve done their best, model guests, all the rubbish carefully bagged and tied and waiting by the bins outside. Surfaces wiped clean, crockery and cutlery washed, dried and put away, beds folded down. There’ll be cleaners coming in later, getting the places reedy for the next guests but they won’t have much to do, these have been well-behaved and they’ll get good reviews. The kind of people you want to stay in your place, the kind that make this website such a success. Because there are good people out there, most of them just like me and you and feeling that responsibility to others. Live in another space, treat it as your own which means you look after it, take care with it. Leave a little of yourself inside it, perhaps one day return to it and enjoy its faint scent of familiarity.
Those cleaners won’t find much to engage them; good thing too, nice to get ahead of yourself on a Monday morning, tick off a couple of easy jobs before the hard stuff kicks in. They’ll be arriving soon but their contract tells them not before 10, give the guests time to pack up and leave if they’ve made a long Sunday of it. Which means that they won’t arrive in time to see the one thing which each of the couples have unfortunately forgotten. Five small suitcases, each in the kitchen space, waiting patiently on the floor as if expecting their owners to come rushing back i to collect them, having just realised their mistake.
And somewhere else, having received five text messages, a man is waiting. He’s spent his weekend in another rental but this one is far from the city bustle. Fresh country air, inspiring brisk walks in the crisp November afternoons, settling by a log fire in quiet rooms stroked by the sound of wind in the trees outside brushing away the last of the leaves. Soft music as a quiet counterpoint, weaving its way behind his eyes as he dozed.
But now he too is packed, ready to leave, refreshed and setting off towards his next destination. The car’s already packed, a small saloon but enough for him and his weekend bag. He’s got a bigger case in the car; next stop is the airport, not that far, one reason he chose this location for his last weekend. That and the good mobile phone coverage; that was a key factor in his thinking when he made the booking. His is the kind of work which depends on communication, needs a clear signal.
Like the one he’s about to send to those five suitcases spread like a necklace across the country. In a small way it’s going to change the world. Start Monday morning with a bang.
