Last August Iain asked me whether I would mind him bringing his friend Manish, for him to stay with us at our flat. For a couple of weeks, three at the most. The question caught me off guard, hence I hesitated before saying anything in reply. 'May I sleep on it? Before I tell you how I feel (about that)' I asked him.

          To be honest — I didn't really mind a freeloader staying with us for a couple of weeks, as Iain's guest. Indeed, I felt this to be a concession that he could not be denied: None of us had ever had any family or friends over; this could be the first of any such visits, an opportunity to acquaint with each other´s friends, so —

          Why not?

          Besides — all three of us get on… Always have.

          Sure we've had our disagreements — who hasn't! (Yet these have never ever escalated to the point of us having any rows.)

          Thinking in retrospect, my reluctance to give an answer to Iain straight away, had less to do with any misgivings I might have about the imminent visit — I had none, in fact — than it was a reaction out of personal concern: I feared that, by agreeing too quickly Iain might soon learn to take my acquiescence for granted.

          Personally I don't mind to always yield to another person's demands, provided these are fair and within reason. That aside, it is a mistake not to show some initial resistance. Otherwise, people may expect you to always agree with them, to take you for granted, to ultimately lose their respect for your agency.

*

          Manish was supposed to move into a flat of his own by mid-September but, at the last minute he was informed by his housemates-to-be that his room would not be available for another fortnight! He had already paid for his travel arrangements, not to mention the fact that he needed the time to get settled before school started.

          That's where Iain comes into the picture!

                       (And Chris, and I, along with him…)

          With Chris gone for that month (he was visiting family up in Sussex), we had an extra room that Manish could use until he could move into his own flat. We live in a split-level; there's the ground floor entrance, Chris' room is on the next level up, and Iain and I have our rooms on the top floor — mine has the skylight! (Yea.)

          'I asked Chris,' Iain explained, 'if Manish could use his room, and he doesn't mind. He actually liked the idea…' Which, in practice — meant that Chris would save money: Since part of his share for September would be covered by someone else. 'I have already discussed this with the landlord, so there should be no problems.'

          With Iain reassuring me about Chris, and about the landlord I felt no reason for concern. Besides, Manish wouldn't be a freeloader after all — he would be paying for his share of the rent for the time that he would be staying with us. (I thought we shouldn't make any fuss about him paying for utilities, gas, electricity…)

          As for food, he would probably end up buying his own. If we cooked (i.e. Iain & I), he would most certainly be welcome to sit with us and share our meal.

*

          The following morning I told Iain over breakfast that I was fine with it. 'Good! Thanks! I´ll speak to him today; I'll tell him.' Two weeks later Manish arrived at our doorstep. Iain was out at the moment, so I opened the door, introduced myself and welcomed him, asking him to make himself at home. He seemed nice.

          For the first couple of days, all three of us spent time together: We cooked, sat in front of the telly, even went out grocery shopping. Then we split up, to give one another space to carry on with our separate, daily routines. From his third day at our place on, Manish spent most of his time in Chris' room, working on his laptop.

          A few days after he had moved out of our flat, the bills began to arrive at our doorstep.

(Drumroll, please.)

          All utilities are registered under Iain's name; it has always been that way; I suppose him being the first tenant to move into the flat… but we split the costs evenly between all three of us. When Iain gets the bill he prints the pdf out, then jots down each one's share on it, and leaves the sheet on the kitchen table.

          I woke up one morning to brew my coffee and found Iain's print-out for the ISP lying on the kitchen table, with the usual Your share = £ XX, scribbled on it. My share for the month seemed to me to be higher than usual. Had there been a mistake? His'? …Maybe it was on the provider's end. I felt confused and anxious.

          Before I go on. I must explain that we pay for a very basic broadband service of 10MB per month, mainly intended for browsing and emailing. We may watch a video on youtube — on occasion. Otherwise, we don´t download movies or play games; our Internet use is generally limited to working, when we are not in school.

*

          I looked carefully at each of the charges on the bill; Iain had done his math right! I then checked with the provider to make sure it hand't been a mistake on their end. Not only did they not make a mistake, they also verified with me the breakdown of GB used over the last thirty days.

          I never bother to look into the daily breakdown of GB used, because I take for granted that we always pay about the same. This time, however, the total balance to be paid up was more than twice what we pay each month. With Chris gone the whole of September, with Iain and I not changing our daily habits — it didn't make sense.

          I crunched the numbers with all the data available to me: the daily GB use for July, then August. I calculated the resulting averages for each month. They averaged to 2-3 GB per day. For all three of us, of course. Then I looked at the breakdown for September...

Ha!

Was I in for a surprise:

14.36, 12.64, 13.27, 18.18, 13.7, 15.06, 12.07…

…And that was only for the first week of the month.

It was shocking.

          I finished my coffee, now lukewarm, short of cold, and caught my breath. I needed to come to my senses, so to speak, before I could think how best to approach Iain about this. I decided that I would pretend to ignore the page. That way, Iain would wonder why, look into the charges again, hopefully reconsider…

          I went about my day as usual.

*

          Later that afternoon I returned home and fixed some dinner for myself. Iain was already in the flat, but upstairs in his room. We didn't see each other. The print-out had been removed from the kitchen table. 'Iain must have reconsidered…' I assumed, naively. His bedroom door shut, I thought it best not to disturb him.

          The following morning I was back in the kitchen after my usual coffee fix. Iain had already left for work. I noticed the print-out lying ominously on the kitchen table: A bubble drawn with red felt-tip pen now encircled My share… He didn't get it, after all. I was displeased but not upset. I finished my coffee, then walked away.

          Later that evening, I was working in my bedroom. Reading about The French Revolution for a written assignment. I was getting into it when, suddenly, three knocks startled me out of focus. I was annoyed. 'Are you busy?' It was Iain. 'Yes I am, but — do come in...'

          Considering that on the preceding evening I had made it a point not to disturb his privacy over the printed out bill I felt annoyed that, in return, he should have startled me himself! Especially, given that I just knew! What his agenda for interrupting me at that moment was.

          I made no secret of it either as he sat on one edge of my bed, trying to break the ice: 'Nice book. Yours?' he asked. 'Bermondsey's' I said, curtly. 'You startled me!' He smiled. 'Instead of knocking, next time you could try scratching the door like those courtiers (did) in the time of Marie Antoinette' I said, smiling back at him.

          He cut to the chase and got down to business: 'Um, I just checked my account, and saw that you forgot to transfer your share for the broadband service.' Glad! that he had finally brought it up himself; I was eager to make mincemeat of him over this:

          'I didn't forget…' I said, looking away from him, pretending to be more interested in the pictures of Versailles that were featured within the book on my desk. 'What you appraised to be my share for this last bill did not reflect upon my actual use. I am not here half the time, you know?' I said, now looking at him.

          He stared at me for a moment, then started: 'I can ask an account specialist about…' I told him that I had already looked into it with the provider, (and that I had it) all figured out! I showed him a print-out of our daily use in GB for both July and August, and for September too, for him to consider.

          He looked through my scribbles — the averages for each month, and so on. I waited for him to realise just how many GB Chris, him and I could eat up in a month — in contrast to how many were devoured during September alone! He knew that Chris (who was not there) him and I combined, could not have done that ourselves.

          He did not flinch before the facts, just handed the sheets back to me asking just how much I thought that I had to pay him. 'Only my fair share. The same amount that I pay you every month.' It was plain to see: All the evidence pointed towards Manish. Yet Iain wouldn't dare drag him to the dock. So I asked him upfront.

          'By the way — I never asked what Manish did for (remote) work.' I wondered whether he was a gamer. Iain explained that he was a youtuber who made music videos. So that explained it. 'Does he have many subscribers?' Iain quoted a number short of a hundred. I scoffed, 'That many!? …he'd make more, busking.'

          Iain lamented that it would not be nice of him to forward a copy of the bill to Manish, asking him to pay for his share; he reminded me that he had been our guest. 'Your guest, pal' I told myself. I tried to picture myself in Manish's shoes though, so I agreed with Iain that it wouldn't seem right to expect him to pay now…

          Misreading my sympathy for Manish as weakness, Iain now reminded me not to forget that Manish had also paid for his share of the rent. 'He even treated us to Indian take away on the last day of his stay with us' he said. 'Does that entitle him to make unlimited use of our broadband, so he can edit all the footage he needs to build his channel up?

          'Not even I can do that. When I moved in with Chris and you — in replacement of your previous housemate — you told me that, because you had under contract a basic broadband service intended for browsing and emailing, "all three of us had to use it sensibly and share in the expense." Fair enough.

          'Your mate stays with us for three weeks, he makes unlimited use of our broadband, yet you split the cost evenly between yourself and me alone! Which brings my share for this month — as per your calculations — to what I would use up in three months time.' Iain showed little interest in my arguments. I carried on.

          'Since you are so keen in paying for your friend's share… Why get me involved in paying along when you could take all the credit for yourself?' Then I thought …Why not? I leafed through the pages that he had returned to me just prior, and looked for the last bit of evidence that I needed in order to rest my case.

          'I tell you what, Iain,' flipping my laptop open, to log into my bank account. 'I will pay for my share — along with your friend´s ENTIRE share.' Iain looked surprised, but nonetheless pleased. Following the transaction I printed out the pdf for the receipt, scribbled on it, and handed it to him.

          He looked at the amount, feigning concern: 'Oh! mate. You didn´t have to…'

          '…,I had to,' I now said reassuringly.

          'I just transferred — as per your calculations — to cover for my actual use for September, as well as October — and November, and January …All paid up for in advance! The months are all scribbled on the page that I just handed to you. Just make sure to let Chris know of our arrangement, will you?'

* *

          Manish did treat us to Indian takeaway on the last day of his stay. (Much obliged.)

          I also kept four pints of my favourite draugh flow in the fridge, a piece of Wensleydale — plus other teasers and nibbles which I didn't mind Manish taking bites out of. The four draught flow cans alone were worth about as much as my regular monthly share for being entitled access to the Internet at Iain´s house.

          I did not care mentioning this to Iain — who by the way barely kept anything in the fridge, during those weeks — out of courtesy to Manish.

          In short —

          I don't think of myself as being mean and penny-pinching, but one's patience soon wears thin in the presence of a smart alec.