Jack was woken up by the sound of his mobile’s bleep. Bleary eyed he raised himself off the bed. His mother’s voice message jolted him awake.
‘Jack love, I know its early but I thought I’d better let you know, we’re coming home a day early, problem with airline strikes tomorrow. Just giving you the heads up. Put the hoover over will you. Bye love.’
‘Oh God no.’
Jack threw a pair of boxer’s on and hurried downstairs. He found his mate Pete fast asleep on the settee.
‘Pete, what the hell are you doing here?’
‘Leave me alone, I wanna sleep.’
Jack kicked him again.
‘You gotta get up man. My mum’s on her way home.’
‘It’s Wednesday, not Thursday bro.’
‘I know, but she’s coming back today.’
Pete reluctantly got up, belched twice, and headed for the kitchen.
Jack’s memory of the previous night in the local slammed into his brain. The curry had definitely not been a good idea. He could hear Pete throwing up in the kitchen, as his own stomach started to tumble over like a washing machine.
The least he should do was to try and clean the place up a bit. He put his headphones on to muffle out the vacuum cleaner’s roar as it went across the carpets. As he grabbed the cushions back up off the floor his nose wrinkled, there was a distinct smell of vomit.
‘I’m dead. She is going to kill me!’
‘What’s the problem man?’
‘You, that’s the problem. You’ve thrown up all over the settee.’
‘Oh. Sorry, my bad.’
‘Damn right it is, you’ve got to help me clean it, I’ll try and find some stuff to clean this up. You open some windows to get rid of some of the stench.’
Jack sprayed the offensive stains with some carpet cleaner and then hovered it off five minutes later.
‘The stains coming off, thank God, but it still stinks.’
‘You could just ask Tracey, to help you, she knows about this stuff.’
‘How can I ask Tracy?’
‘If you shout any louder, she’ll hear you, she’s sleeping in your parent’s bed.’
Jack’s pale face turned even whiter.
‘What’s all this noise, I’m trying to sleep.’
Jack held his head in his hands when Tracy descended the stairs wearing his father’s best shirt, and he wondered if it was possible for the day to get any worse.
She took charge and delved into the cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out a bottle.
‘My mother swears by this, it will get rid off everything.’
Walking towards the settee, she tripped over the hoover cable. The top of the bleach bottle flew off and its contents followed. Dalmatian spots emerged before Jack’s eyes.
The acrid smell of the bleach was too much for Jack’s current constitution, his stomach gave up the fight to hold anything down and he ran for the bathroom.
Tracey and Pete both headed outside, just as the taxi was pulling up.
