‘What about Robin?’ My brother calls after me.
‘Minty!’ I stare down at him from the landing. ‘I told you. Tonight is business.’ This is kind of true. ‘Besides, Robin’s not my type.’ This is absolutely true.
My brother looks confused, bordering on dumbfounded, as he follows me up the stairs. ‘He’s a nice lad. His mum speaks highly of him.’
That just about says it all, but apparently not because Minty is now in my bedroom. I raise one eyebrow. ‘Bro, I don’t have time for this. I have a work do. I could be on for a promotion.’
He shakes his head solemnly. ‘But they need to give you a contract.’
‘In hand,’ I say, keeping my tone short. ‘They were talking about it just a few hours ago, you know how these things take time. And if I do get a pay rise, I promise there’ll be strawberries in the fridge every week.’
His smile runs from ear to ear. Minty is a man of childish pleasures and moral codes that can be bought off with a multitude of cheap treats. He’s a true love. Give him a punnet of fresh fruit, and he’ll be yours for life.
‘So.’ I widen my eyes and swish my hands towards him in an attempt to usher him out of my room. ‘I need space.’
But curiously, Minty’s not moving. ‘What’s he like? This boss. How old?’
‘In or out?’ I say firmly. ‘And if you’re staying, I warn you, I’m going to be swanning around in undies and lacquering on the hairspray.’
‘Ew.’ He backs out.
I don’t need any more of an invitation. I shut the door on him.
‘And you’ll be back early?’ his muffled voice asks through the closed door.
‘Absolutely.’ I loosen the belt on my office dress and go straight for my wardrobe. ‘I’ve got work in the morning, and I’ve been at it all day. This is not a late one.’
‘Okay,’ Minty says. He doesn’t sound happy, but he doesn’t sound like he’s going to treat me to the ‘none shall pass’ routine on the stairs.
I throw back my wardrobe door. My clothes are packed in way too tightly, there’s so much stuff you can barely see what you’re looking for. Suddenly, I don’t feel quite so full of myself anymore. Sure, I’ve got lots to wear, but not one thing suitable for a night on the town with Marco Delagado. The only expensive, decent clothes I’ve got are the things I wear to work. Then again, he hasn’t seen me in those because he has his own lift and doesn’t come through reception, not unless I happen to be wearing a goblin mask! Okay, I think to myself, sinking down on the bed and running my eyes across the evening’s possibilities. I improvise. I can wear one of my work dresses. I have a smart shirt dress with gold buttons and a neat collar that I bought last year in a sale. It’s only had a couple of outings behind the reception desk. It might not be high fashion, but it’s the most expensive, least worn-looking thing that I’ve got. I’ll just jump in the shower, do my hair, and all will be fine.
I grab my luxury washbag with my night out treats and head to the bathroom. The sink is filthy.
‘Minty! How many times… Do not wash off in here after work,’ I shout.
‘What?’ Minty grunts from somewhere downstairs.
‘Use the garage for washing your hands. Don’t…’ Oh, what does it matter? He’s so un-house trained. He’s over thirty. There’s no hope. I switch on the tap. It’s cold. Icy cold.
‘MINTY!’
I hear him thundering up the stairs.
‘There’s no water.’ I could practically cry. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long, hard, and confusing day, and this is the last thing I need.
‘There’s no water,’ I repeat, but this time with a sob.
He glances guiltily at the shower, at the black sink, at the rags he’s left on the floor. It’s a mess, and the blame lies totally at his door.
Sheepishly, he hides his hands behind his back, dropping his head in a don’t-notice-me attitude. ‘I’ll, ugh, I’ll put the immersion on.’
I feel myself biting the insides of my mouth to try and avoid blasting him out of the universe. ‘Yup. You do that.’
That is when the light in the bathroom goes dead.
My dear sweet and infuriating brother glances nervously up at the fitting. ‘Could be the bulb.’
But the hallway is dark, too. ‘Minty, did you pay the electric bill?’
