I woke with a start and jumped out of bed. Not to write as I would have liked, with the sun red on the bedroom wall and the sparrows tweeting in the Carob tree, but to clear up the mess from the night before. Neighbours had been over and the evening had turned into quite a party. The house was a mess and I dragged my red wine hangover through to the lounge. Glasses and coffee cups lay everywhere. There were crisps squashed into the carpet. In the kitchen, the remains of a Chinese take-away littered the worktops and the house reeked of stale food, beer and fags. I set to, stacking the dishwasher, vacuuming and wiping. I sprayed the rooms liberally with air freshener and opened the windows. I put out the rubbish, applied a broom to the Bougainvillea petals on the patio and fed Mina. The table set for breakfast, I squeezed oranges and sliced bread, and was just putting the water on for the eggs when Giles surfaced.
’Go and have your shower,’ he said, giving me a push in the direction of the bathroom.
Our visitors from hell were just buttering their toast when I reappeared. "Here she is," said Martha, looking pointentedly at her watch, "lazy bones!"
’Go and have your shower,’ he said, giving me a push in the direction of the bathroom.
Our visitors from hell were just buttering their toast when I reappeared. "Here she is," said Martha, looking pointentedly at her watch, "lazy bones!"
