Taken At The Flood*

“Where are you, lovely? xxx” Seb’s message comes through at 4.59pm.

“At the parentals,” I reply.

The phone rings.  

“That’ll be my boyfriend,” I say, reaching for it.

“Hello?” I say.  

“Hello my lovely,” Seb says.

“How are you darling?” I say, feeling happy to hear his voice.

“I seem to have flooded my room,” Seb says.  

“How?” I say, my heart sinking.

“So, the plug hole got blocked in the shower, and you know the bathroom is one of those wet rooms,” Seb says.  

“Yes, I remember,” I say.  When you turn the shower on, the water goes all over the bathroom floor.  When I stayed there, had to keep changing my socks in the night as everytime I went to the loo, my socks got wet.

“So, I went off to lectures today,” Seb says, “and when I returned one side of the bedroom carpet was soaked.  The water had got under the bathroom door and soaked the carpet and…”

“Oh no,” I say.  “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to have to try to dry it out, with the heater,” Seb says.  “The problem is: we’ve got a room inspection next week.  So I won’t be able to get to you till Saturday and…”

“Oh,” I say.  “I’m sorry, darling.  Poor you.  Hope you can sort it out.”

“Me too,” Seb says.  “I’ll be with you by lunchtime on Saturday.”

“Look, I’d better go,” I say.  “I’ve got to write the blog and have a bath.  Goodbye darling,”

“Goodbye,” Seb says.

Putting the phone down, I feel very sad.  I’m not going to see him till Saturday now and was so looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.

The attached photo is a dinosaur made of beads.  Bought him as a present for Mum.

*1948.  By Agatha Christie.  Hercule Poirot detective novel.

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