When the daylight has faded

The surprise visit (#wait)

The last plate wobbles on the massive pile of dirty dishes next to the sink in the small kitchen, but Paul, always the optimist, crowns the tower with his cereal bowl, the Rice Krispies glued to the outside with sugary milk serving as the Crown Jewels. Paul's optimism begins to waver, though, when the crockery column teeters precariously to the left, an artistic impression of the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

A catlike jump in the right direction, and he catches his beloved Bibione bowl, a reminder of the first holiday with Linda, his girlfriend whom he moved in with just a few weeks ago, and roughly ten plates, which smear three-day old tomato sauce all over his shirt. The rest of the plate pile commits suicide on the floor right in front of his eyes, drowning out very creative expletives escaping his mouth.

"Oh no, my parents phoned. They are on their way. Mother will have a fit. Quick! Get yourself cleaned up. I'll try and clean up the biggest messes, make the flat more presentable before they get here."

Linda appears out of nowhere, making Paul jump. There go another three plates.

"Can't!" Paul chokes out.

"Can't? Can't what?"

"Can't put fresh clothes on. This was my last clean top."

"Shit!... I know, run to Tesco's, grab a cheap shirt."

"Can't!"

"Can't what?"

"Can't get a shirt. We have about ten quid left till the end of the month. We need to eat."

"Lord, help us now!" Linda prays, but loses faith instantly when she remembers the state of the bathroom.

She grabs the tablecloth off the dining room table, all the debris wrapped up in it and hastily dumps everything behind the laundry basket in the bedroom.

"Whack a new tablecloth on the table and set it. I'll get the worst of the rubbish out of bathroom."

"Can't!"

"Can't what?"

"Can't set the table. We haven't got enough plates left."

Linda drops the binbag, containing the remnants of their dinner service, presently engaged in dripping tomato sauce all over the kitchen floor, not that anyone would notice, given the general state of the youngsters' first own abode.

Her eyes water.

"I waited so long to move in with you, but this... We are pigs, Paul, and my parents were right when they said we weren't mature enough for our own flat."

Paul gives Linda a kiss, then disappears through the front door.

He's back five minutes later with a nice clean top that his new neighbour and friend lent him along with a few quid.

When the doorbell rings, he pushes Linda out the door and down the stairs, gently of course, to welcome the future in-laws in front of, rather than inside, the flat.

"What's going on? We are so excited. Let's go upstairs to have a look at your flat!" his girlfriend's mother demands.

"Can't!"

"Can't what?"

"Can't go upstairs. Water pipe burst a minute ago. The plumber's been notified. How about we'll go for a nice coffee now, and Linnie and I'll show you the flat next time you visit. It's in a right state now. You wouldn't want to see that!"