half-heartedly and Jerome takes the hint. He proves to be a whizz at flat-pack furniture and within half an hour my bed is screwed together and the mattress is taken out of its plastic sheath and tossed on top, as easily as if it were an air bed, just as I’m finishing off putting my three part clothes rail together. Jerome shrugs off my thanks and disappears to his own room and I unwrap my sheets and duvet and duvet cover and there’s packaging everywhere. I make the bed, being sure to keep it away from the still damp walls. I even remembered to buy clothes hangers so I empty my holdall and hang the few clothes I have in my new covered rail. I still have Jerome’s screw driver and although it takes me three times as long as it would have him I stand on a chair and manage to unscrew the curtain rail and I take down the mouldy faded apricot curtains and hang some full-length sheer white cotton ones in their place. The paint isn’t properly dry yet but it won’t matter, they barely touch the walls. I’m determined to finish this so I go and find the vacuum cleaner and get as much crap out of the carpet as I can manage. I change the lampshade to a plain white one. I take all the discarded packaging downstairs and shove it in the front garden with everything else. I’m dog tired now but I go back up to my room and unfold the cream shag rug and it’s perfect, it takes up nearly the whole floor next to the bed, hiding the stains on the carpet beneath, so I can pretend they’re not there. The transformation is complete. In the space of 36 hours I have a new home, new friend, new name, and now a spanking white bedroom. But no child, no husband , says a voice out of somewhere. I ignore it and head for the shower.
8
Andrew woke suddenly and leapt out of bed all in one movement, the body next to him still and snoring lightly. He went straight to the small en suite bathroom and showered away the girl’s bodily fluids. He was annoyed that she was still there – he normally made sure they left afterwards – but he’d been tired last night, and straight after he’d finished he’d rolled off and fallen into a heavy dull sleep. Maybe he was coming down with something.
It was only six o’clock, too early for breakfast, and day two of the conference didn’t start until nine, but he didn’t want to be there when she woke up, it was too intimate, embarrassing. She didn’t look like she was going to wake up any time soon, she’d been completely plastered the previous night, and he realised with a shock that he couldn’t remember her name although he kept trying. He decided to leave himself, go for a walk – hopefully she’d be gone by the time he returned, that would solve the problem.
He dressed quickly, trying not to look towards the bed as he did so. He made sure he opened the door as noiselessly as possible, and although she grunted and turned over, he made it from the room without her waking. He walked quietly down the long drab corridor of faceless doors, and outside a couple were trays of already rotting food from the night before. Andrew only relaxed once he’d made it to the lift and the mirrored doors had shut him in, offering up a golden reflected image of himself. Andrew knew he was a handsome man, but he could see his looks had dimmed of late, maybe it was his paunch or the fact his hair was showing signs of receding, or more simply that his internal misery was starting to be worn on his face.
As Andrew walked through the reception he looked straight ahead and ignored the night porter sitting behind the desk – it wasn’t that he meant to be rude, he just didn’t want the man to see the shame in his eyes.
Outside Andrew had no idea which way to go, it wasn’t really a place for walks, so he arbitrarily turned left, along the already busy main road. He walked for maybe 500 yards, until he’d given up hope of there being a turn-off, but finally he found a smaller road on the left, which after a
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