The Fairy Godmother Part 15

“You need to clean yourself up,” I told him.

“Not suggesting I put some clean clothes on?” he smiled.

“They wont be clean for long if you wear them,” I replied. “You need to clean yourself first.”

“You want to see the bathroom first?” he asked.

“By the smell coming from that direction, it wont be a pretty sight,” I replied following my nose to it. “So you are going to have to start by cleaning this,” I replied, taking a step back.

“But how?” he howled.

“First you could try flushing the toilet,” I said looking at the brown liquid in the bottom of the bowel.

“Someone said you don’t have to flush liquid,” he said.

“I’d make an exception for that,” I said pointing at the toilet handle. He did as he was told, but it didn’t alter the fact that the bowel was filthy. “Now, you need to put some bleach round the bowel and leave it to do something.”

“How long do I leave it like that?” he asked.

“I’ll let you know,” I replied. Basically, I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“So what do I do next?” he asked.

“Everything that isn’t a fixture or fitting needs to be removed,” I said.

“What?” he asked.

“Clear the bathroom,” I said. “Most of the stuff in there is either rubbish or ruined, once that is out of there, you can clean the bathroom.”

“But,” he started and then saw where the laser cannon was pointing.

“Is this going to be your answer to everything?” he asked.

“It works, I would have thought the idea of getting the love of your life back would have been motivation enough, but,” I replied.

“OK, the bathroom will shine,” he said getting to work on it.

“Good, I’ll check your progress in an hour,” I said returning to the kitchen and the washing machine.

He didn’t notice me checking his progress in an hour, he was too busy cleaning the bathroom cabinet, I hadn’t noticed that it was white and had a mirror on the front of it. After two hours, he returned to the kitchen.

“So that’s where you are,” he said.

“And have you cleaned the bathroom?” I asked.

“Would you like to inspect it?” he asked. “Or will you take my word that a cleaner bathroom doesn’t exist.”

“I’ll see it,” I said walking past him to the bathroom. To be fair on him, it looked like a different room. “I’ve seen better,” I replied. “But it’ll do. You need a bath, even more than you did before you started cleaning. The purpose of cleaning is not to transfer the muck to yourself. I shall get you some clean towels and clothes.”

“I can get them myself,” he said.

“If you touch them before you have a bath, they wont be clean, you’ll mess them up,” I replied.

“Wont that be the same for the bath?” he asked.

“Well, you can put your newly honed cleaning prowess to use and clean the bath again afterwards,” I replied, heading to the pile of fresh laundry.

“And what have you been doing, whilst I was busy?” he asked.

“Fixing your washing machine and dishwasher,” I replied, pointing to them.

“I didn’t know Fairies fixed machines,” he said.

“Here’s something to put your mucky clothes in,” I said handing him a bin. “We don’t want you getting the floor mucky with them.”

“Is that a hint?” he asked as I returned with the clean towels and clothes and placed them on a small cabinet in the bathroom.

“You know what to do,” I replied, pointing towards the bathroom with my laser cannon.

“You don’t take no for an answer,” he said going into the bathroom and closing the door.

“Don’t forget to wash your hair,” I shouted.

For a brief moment I thought we had an intruder in the place when he returned from his bath, but then I recognised the clothes I’d handed to him.

“Put the damp towels in the washing machine,” I said pointing towards it.

“If that isn’t running, what is?” he asked.

“The dishwasher,” I replied. “Don’t you recognise the sound.”

“I got banned from using it,” he said.

“By whom?” I asked.

“Lisa,” he said. “Or was it Carol?”

“If you can’t keep a track of your girlfriends,” I replied. “What did you do to get banned?”

“She didn’t like the way I loaded it, seems you don’t just put a pile of plates in, in a pile, you have to stand them up. Also, you never put silver cutlery in it, don’t know what it does, but it isn’t good, nearly as bad as leaving it in something that you put in the micro-wave. And you definitely do not use washing-up liquid.”

“You are an imbecile,” I replied. “You could do with reading the instruction manual.”

“Bit difficult that,” he said. “I think it got chucked out with the packing.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I didn’t think I needed it, I mean, how hard can it be to use a dishwasher?” he smiled.

“I am surprised you still need to ask that one, because you were obviously incapable of using this,” I said as the machine clicked though it’s program. “Were you that stupid with the washing machine?”

“I thought washing her woolies would please her, it would be a nice surprise when she came home from work,” he sighed.

“They shrank?” I guessed.

“I suggested stretching them, but it didn’t work,” he sighed.

“What temperature did you wash them at?” I asked.

“90 degrees, well it did wonders for the tea towels,” he said.

“That would be enough to totally destroy them,” I said.

“It was funny, some of them seemed to be stuck together,” he laughed.

“I don’t suppose she saw it that way,” I said.

“No, she packed the rest of her clothes and moved out, I think she went to a hotel before she sorted out more permanent accommodation,” he said sounding perplexed.

“It sounds to me like all these people move out when you fall down on the domestic side of things,” I said.

“You mean when I stuff up on something house based?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied. “Would you like to sort that?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I mean I don’t want them to think I’m better than them on the housework front.”

“But you don’t want them to think you see them as a cheap way of getting your home tidy, cooking and laundry done whilst you sit around doing nothing,” I reminded him.

“I suppose not,” he said. “Though it is nice to watch people work.”

“Then get yourself a job and you can spend all day watching them work,” I snapped.

“But I’m an artist,” he said. “I can’t be going out to work, I have to be ready for the muse when it comes.”

“When did the muse last come?” I asked, I know a few muses, they can be a bit temperamental. “Can I see some of your previous work.”

“I don’t have any with me, at the moment,” he blustered.

“Tell the truth,” I said.

“OK,” he said, dumping himself down on the floor. “The last lot were crap, so I left them at the art college when they chucked me out for non attendance.”

“And you haven’t done anything since?” I asked.

“I’ve not got anything to paint with,” he said. “And I can’t think of what to paint.”

“This flat could do with a few coats of emulsion for a start off,” I said looking round.

“That isn’t funny,” he snapped.

“Neither is the colour of this room,” said. “Whatever made you think peppermint green was a good colour for a kitchen? Also, I don’t know what colour you’d call the bathroom, but it isn’t good.”

“That isn’t going to bring out my artistic side though is it?” he said.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “Get a paint brush in your hands and you might surprise yourself or are you chicken?”

“Is this a dare?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “This place needs a complete overhaul.”

“And you think that will get my girlfriend back?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but at least she wont feel like running a mile when she sees inside the front door,” I replied. “So, will you give it a go?”

“OK,” he said. “But not now.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“It’s two in the morning and I need some sleep,” he said.

“When did you last change your bed?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“Fresh bed linen,” I replied.

“I can’t remember,” he said. “Does it matter?”

“We’ve just got you clean,” I said. “I don’t think it would be a good idea you sleeping in mucky bed linen.”

“I’ll have a bath first thing,” he said. “It’ll be OK.”

“OK,” I muttered as he headed off to bed and my phone rang.

“You’ve made some progress,” said the Head of the Fairy Council.

“It would be easier with my wand back,” I said hopefully.

“Tough,” she said and hung up.

By Janice Nye © 2019