“John... this is too much. I haven’t exactly said yes to having a flatmate,” complained Amy when Jane had finally left.
“Honey, you always said you were lonely. Now you are having a dream flatmate and your problem is solved. Things couldn’t be better. Isn’t this a happy ending?”
“But you had to consult with me before telling your colleague she could move into my flat.”
“I did consult with you this morning, didn’t I?” claimed John in an innocent voice.
“That’s not a consultation. I was almost in a comatose condition, barely understanding whatever you were saying to me. You should never take advantage of the moment when one is unable to think and speak properly.”
“Please, sister, trust me. I’m your beloved brother. Why would I put you in a situation you won’t be coping with? Jane is the nicest person you would ever encounter in your whole life. You would thank me later for introducing her to your life."
"Right now," continued John, "no time for whining. She will be here at 4pm with her stuff. And don’t worry about anything and just relax. No need to move your finger. All you have to do is to welcome her with your open arms.”
“4pm today? Gosh, are you kidding?” Amy tried to question her brother who, as usual, didn’t leave any chance to Amy and left for the door.
Chapter 4
Next morning.
A gentle drilling noise was coming from downstairs, probably from the kitchen. A fragrant aroma too. And... a moment later, this was followed by another strange noise, stronger and closer. This time, it seemed to be coming from the bathroom. Toilet flushing and electric brushing.
“What on earth is going on?” asked Amy.
With her eyes squinting, Amy checked her bedroom clock: it was 5am. F. I. V. E. am...!
“What the…?” But she was too sleepy to investigate the noise outside her bedroom so she went back to sleep.
About two hours later, Amy woke up, still feeling groggy and tired from her disturbed sleep. She went downstairs to the kitchen. The moment she grabbed the coffee pot to make a fresh coffee the way she had habitually been doing every morning, she screamed.
Hot steamy air spewed from the pot.
“Holy shit,” cried Amy, vigorously wiping and cooling her hot humid face and hands with a tea towel.
Her so-called new flatmate made that coffee. And this must be the source of that strange noise earlier this morning when the machine was in operation.
The fruity aroma smelled faintly familiar. Yeah, come to think of it, it was so familiar. Amy opened up her cupboard door and found her precious coffee bean bag had been opened and used.
“That bitch,” she swore, despite herself. Without asking her permission, Jane used her coffee beans. It was Uncle James’ present from South Africa!
Coffee wasn’t the only item that Jane had freely helped herself to. The milk carton she had bought yesterday was almost empty. Cornflakes and mueslis were gone too.
“What am I supposed to eat for breakfast?” lamented Amy.
At that instant, something clashed at the sink. Heavily collapsed was a tower of haphazardly stacked crockery and cutlery. Now the kitchen was in total mess: broken pieces of china, bread crumbs, dried cereals, and dirty bowls, splattered all over the sink and floor too.
