Out With The Old
Coffee Break Tale
It’s got to go, Kate,” Nick said. “The place is a tip. Things need to change round here!” I looked around. My home, my cosy, comfy little apartment. Why did Nick have to kick off whenever there wasn’t any sport on? “But I –” I began. “No ifs or buts,” Nick said. “I can’t think surrounded by all this clutter.”
“Think?” I said. From what I knew of Nick he didn’t do much thinking. Oh, he’d laid on the charm when I first met him, while I was on the girls-from-work night out. At least I think he did, but maybe my mind was addled with the wine we’d been quaffing.
“Most of it’s useless, sentimental old rubbish,” Nick continued. “Clogging up the place – stuff you don’t need. You’ve got to learn to let go.”
I couldn’t speak. Just the thought of letting go of any of my treasured possessions made me want to cry.
“I’ll get some boxes from the supermarket,” Nick said. “You can start sorting the place out while I’m away.” “Away?” I queried. Nick stared at me. “Golf weekend with the boys, remember?” he said, shaking his head.
I didn’t remember him mentioning it, but then Nick was always taking off somewhere with his mates. Football, fishing, darts, sailing, now golf!
Still, if it meant I could have a bit of space to be on my own, I supposed I had to be glad. A weekend of peace from the blaring TV sport, interspersed only by Nick’s moaning about the state of the place, would be as much of a holiday as I could ask for – or afford.
It was no use wondering if Nick would consider forking out for a few days away for him and me. I’d asked a million times after he first moved in.
“Don’t want to be wasting money on hotels,” he said, “when there’s everything we need here.”
Funny that, thinking about it, when all he did now was complain there wasn’t enough space for his clothes, his angling gear, or any of the other paraphernalia he’d moved in with him.
I’d already had to clear away and box all my books, so he could rip out the bookcase to make room for the ultra wide-screen TV tuned in to non-stop Sky Sports.
I’d been working that hard I could have done with a little weekend away myself, but given my wages were swallowed up by the rent, the food shopping and the rest of the bills there was fat chance of that.
I’d foolishly thought that when Nick moved in we’d be sharing expenses, but what he gave me barely covered the additional utilities he used, seeing as we were stuck in most nights.
“It’s more than I gave my mum,” he said when I queried the amount.
So,” said Nick, breaking through my thoughts. “Iron a few shirts and throw a few things in a case for me, while I go and sort out some beer to take for me and the boys. I’ll pick up the boxes from the supermarket while I’m there. Wayne’s picking me up at eight.”
I stared long and hard at his back as he headed toward the door. I’d sorted his clothes, and his travel bag was ready by the time he got back. All Nick had to do was have a quick shower and get dressed before Wayne beeped his horn.
I waved him off good-naturedly. Once he’d gone, I stood in the middle of the room staring at the chaos around me. True to his word Nick had picked up some big boxes for me to clear out the junk in my life.
Amazing how easy it was once I’d made up my mind. The place was sorted by Sunday night. All of Nick’s gear was neatly packed in the cardboard boxes waiting outside in the drive for him for when he got back. I’m sure his mum will welcome him home with open arms.
The place looked fantastic. Nick was right. Things needed to change. I just had to learn to let go – of him!