Stories of the Street - Forty two

The room is clear of furniture but that just means everything has been crammed into the other rooms. They are eating take-aways and accumulating dirty dishes and debts as they work on decorating the room.

There has been a cry for some time now which goes something like “They make it look so easy on those TV programmes!”. This is usually echoed with a short word or phrase such as “Bastards!” or “Lying toadies!”

Mark and Tony are preparing the floor for the final coat of varnish. It took them ages to do the ceiling and walls, even longer to do the wood-work, a life time to sand and stain the floor and soon, well soon enough, the final touches will have been completed.

The two young men have grossly underestimated the time and cost of their week’s holiday and one room just does not seem enough reward for their troubles.

Last night, in amongst the dark shadows cast by the upended sofa languishing in their bedroom Tony had asked if they really would finish the living room in time and Mark had reassured him. “Tomorrow,” he said, “we will celebrate the end of our decorating marathon with a bottle of Champagne!”

In the dark, Tony could almost believe his partner.

So, with the windows open to air the room and with paint brushes ready, the two young men begin to carefully apply the varnish.

“You don’t think we are perhaps just a bit too perfectionist?” asks Tony.

“This is our first home. It has cost us a lot to get where we are. Trust me, the best is the very least we deserve!”

As they meticulously put the last coat on the floor in a perfectly decorated room filled with love and resonating with music by Chopin, an old gas boiler in the empty flat above is beginning to leak quite badly. Water is already soaking into the wall and the old carpet below it is dark with stale moisture from the growing pool.