(Also, I haven't watched any third-series episodes for a long time, so I fear my Martha characterisation may be rather wobbly. Sorry.
This was a lot of fun to write, though.)
It's strange: one of her potential housemates (what was his name? Darren?) sees Martha off after the viewing with a hand on her arm and a smile, and she walks away knowing she wants to accept the room but unable to quite place why.
-
Martha hasn't been living with Piers and Derren for long before she decides that she's never going to trust her instincts again.
"Thank you so much; it's terribly kind of you," Derren says, drawing his leg up slightly.
"Well, tempting as it is just to let you bleed to death, I can't afford to cover your share of the rent," Martha says, pulling the bandages a little tighter than strictly medically necessary. "Have you considered not walking on glass in the living room?"
"Would you rather I didn't practise?"
"Well, yes. I'd rather you didn't prance about on broken glass at all. It's really not a good idea."
"Oh, for God's sake, is there going to be glass in the carpet again?" Piers asks, shuffling in. A strong smell of rot accompanies him. Martha has no idea how she managed to forget, when she was signing the tenancy agreement, that one of the men with whom she would be living was a walking corpse, but she is coming to suspect that it has something to do with the way Derren was speaking quietly and soothingly and constantly to her as she read through all the paperwork.
"We can hoover," Derren says, innocently.
"Derren," Piers says, "you can mutilate yourself all you like, but I'm dead. I can't heal. If you cut open my feet, they're going to stay open."
Martha doesn't know why she doesn't just leave, but somehow she always forgets what she was planning to do halfway through dialling the landlord.
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(Also, I haven't watched any third-series episodes for a long time, so I fear my Martha characterisation may be rather wobbly. Sorry.
This was a lot of fun to write, though.)
It's strange: one of her potential housemates (what was his name? Darren?) sees Martha off after the viewing with a hand on her arm and a smile, and she walks away knowing she wants to accept the room but unable to quite place why.
Martha hasn't been living with Piers and Derren for long before she decides that she's never going to trust her instincts again.
"Thank you so much; it's terribly kind of you," Derren says, drawing his leg up slightly.
"Well, tempting as it is just to let you bleed to death, I can't afford to cover your share of the rent," Martha says, pulling the bandages a little tighter than strictly medically necessary. "Have you considered not walking on glass in the living room?"
"Would you rather I didn't practise?"
"Well, yes. I'd rather you didn't prance about on broken glass at all. It's really not a good idea."
"Oh, for God's sake, is there going to be glass in the carpet again?" Piers asks, shuffling in. A strong smell of rot accompanies him. Martha has no idea how she managed to forget, when she was signing the tenancy agreement, that one of the men with whom she would be living was a walking corpse, but she is coming to suspect that it has something to do with the way Derren was speaking quietly and soothingly and constantly to her as she read through all the paperwork.
"We can hoover," Derren says, innocently.
"Derren," Piers says, "you can mutilate yourself all you like, but I'm dead. I can't heal. If you cut open my feet, they're going to stay open."
Martha doesn't know why she doesn't just leave, but somehow she always forgets what she was planning to do halfway through dialling the landlord.