Not everyone who lived on Grimace Street was what you might call a model resident. Everyone had their fair share of flaws, and the Gaffs were no exception.
The Gaffs lived at 3 Grimace Street in a little rundown house that had stood where it did for an awfully long time.
It was Miss Marble who had bought the Gaffs to Grimace Street. They had come to her attention as a struggling family in another part of town and though it was not Miss Marble’s way to interfere in the business of other people away from Grimace street she found the Gaffs struck a chord with her.
Mr Gaff was a middle-aged man, a labourer on worksites and worked long hours to provide for his family. Mrs Gaff and stayed home and cared for the children who seemed to appear at nine monthly intervals as though Mr and Mrs Gaff couldn’t really explain the constant stream of little Gaffs.
They struggled to make ends meet, with so many mouths to feed money was a constant source of worry and added to their woes was a landlord who wanted them out.
The Gaffs found it hard to get ahead. Their rent was going up, they fell into arrears, and the constant threat of eviction hung over their heads.
All the while both husband and wife did their best in every way with Mr Gaff worked extra hours, and even worked a weekend job but when unskilled the pay is never going to amount to enough.
Miss Marble saw the Gaffs as unfortunate but doing their best with what they had and so offered them the little house at No. 3 Grimace Street. At first, Mr Gaff was flattered by the offer, but when he saw the house, his first thought was it was far too small for a family the size of his own.
On the inside, though it was different. The rooms were large and spacious, there was plenty of room for his growing family and the kitchen that set him back a pace or two. It was a remarkable house, and Mr Gaff was so grateful to Miss Marble he promised to maintain the house and be the best of tenants.
So, the Gaffs moved into the house and continued to have babies, though eventually, Miss Marble did suggest to Mrs Gaff that a dose of a special potion she’d prepared might help keep Mrs Gaff’s uterus from completely falling apart.
Mr Gaff worked as he always did, they paid rent a regular rent, and his family grew along with the house.
Living on Grimace Street was a privilege and the Gaffs knew it, they kept to themselves, as they had little if any time to do anything else, and Miss Marble looked upon them with pride seeing them doing their best.
Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/09/06/tale-weaver-187-doing-your-best-6th-september/
Nice story Michael.
Well written! 🙂