Dancing

He knocked gently, the door opened a little. He tapped again and after a moment called the name of the person he was expecting to meet throught the gap. Nothing. He crossed the threshold, there was a strong dank smell, stale tobacco with a note of unwashed people in prolonged confinement. A hoover stood in the hallway looking sheepish, he passed it and found himself in the living room.

He wasn't that surprised to see the mess, nothing was in its place, furniture, clothes and bed linen were strewn everywhere and there were mugs and glasses and piles of loose change on any available flat surfaces. Cigarette ends were hunched up in nooks and against chair legs like little battle victims.

In the kitchen, everything was everywhere and everywhere was filthy. A baby's bottle with a solid green lump of mould occupying the bottom half, open cartons of milk, no crockery at all in the cupboards, instead it formed precarious towers perched on odd corners. More cigarette ends and the dead bodies of some suspiciously foreign looking bugs.

He stood and allowed himself to absorb the scene. He had been aware since the beginning, nine months ago, that this guy had problems. He had been relieved when they had agreed to terminate their agreement and had talked about arrangements for making sure all the loose ends were tied up. He had seen vans come and go over recent days, taking away various things.

Tucked into a cranny in the hoover he found two sets of keys (including a bent one) and a post-it note; "truly sorry about the mess, hope the money left covers it".

Post script:

I will need to be more careful about choosing my next tenant and less willing to take the gamble that I always knew it was, to give the flat to a guy who'd just arrived in the country from Uganda with a 6 month old baby and no job. (The baby had had the good sense to return to Uganda some time ago).

Strangely I was not so much annoyed as sad (and ofcourse relieved); but escaping from one mess by fleeing to another is not escaping at all.

That morning I lent him the hoover and whilst I was confident that there would be work to do after he had left, the idea that renting a carpet cleaner for a morning would deal with it, proved to be wishful thinking.

There was nearly £20 in loose change, over £5 of which was in one and two p's, lying about the place.

When the fridge was moved, a little clutch of those international insects woke up and dashed off in all directions. I think I would have impressed Mr Flatly.