CHAPTER20
2011
‘Who has the room next week?’ Beth yelled from the kitchen.
‘My turn,’ Alex shouted in reply. ‘And it cannot come quickly enough. I swear I’m going to murder Becky if she doesn’t stop sleep-talking.’
‘I can’t help it,’ Beth heard Becky respond. ‘I just happen to have a lot of conversational dreams.’
As roommates went, Beth enjoyed sharing with Erin the most. She was the calmest of the group, unlikely to sweat the small stuff and most importantly she didn’t snore. Tara on the other hand sounded like she was sawing wood, especially after a few beers. She was also the most likely to wind Beth up. She’dopen her mouth and let her belly rumbleas her mum would say, often bluntly speaking before she’d had time to think. Personally, she hadn’t heard Becky’s sleep-talking, but Alex was known to giggle at nothing in the dead of night.
‘Would you mind swapping with me?’ Beth asked. ‘Pretty please?’
‘Why?’ Alex enquired. ‘Did you not just hear my I’m going to murder Becky story?’
Beth took a deep breath. ‘I’d quite like Paul to stay over next week and I know that we all agreed—’
‘NO SLEEPOVERS!’ was the loud response in unison from the living room. She sighed. She knew they would say this. They had four house rules that they swore to stick by:
If you mess it up, tidy it.
If you finish it, replace it.
Ask before you borrow it.
No sleepovers.
Originally there had only been three but then Becky bumped into one of Tara’s naked acquaintances in the hallway at am and almost had a heart attack.
‘This is our home, our safe space! None of us need to be seeing random hairy arses and dangly bits in the dead of night!’
Tara initially protested until she realised the following day that the random dangly man had stolen her bank card and new electric toothbrush. The new rule was quickly added to the list on the fridge in block capitals.
‘Oh, come on, it’s Paul!’ Beth insisted, stomping through from the kitchen. ‘You’ve met Paul. He’s harmless and very respectful. You won’t even know he’s here!’
‘Unless you’ve both taken a vow of chastity, I think we will,’ Erin remarked. ‘But why does he need to stay here? He has his own flat share – in a much nicer part of town, might I add.’
Beth shoved Tara’s legs off the arm of the couch and sat down. ‘Two reasons. Number one: it’s my birthday and Paul wants to cook me dinner. Our kitchen is far better equipped that his one dirty microwave and a hot-plate setup. And number two: his place is a smelly nightmare. It’s justeau de testosteronethe moment you step inside. It’s so hard to get any real privacy and God, the toilet in the morning – it’s unbearable. Pube soap in the shower, questionably damp loo roll – it’s like a festival Portaloo covered in tiny beard shavings. Boys are so gross.’
‘And yet you want to let one of them loose in here?’ Alex questioned. ‘I don’t think so. Also, bars of soap are still a thing? What is this, 1950?’
‘It’s actually better for the environment,’ Becky added. ‘No plastic waste.’
Alex shrugged. ‘I’ll let the planet burn before I touch boy soap.’
‘Can we get back to my request please?’ Beth exclaimed, in an attempt to get the conversation back on track. ‘If we can’t stay here, I’m not sure what we’ll do.’
‘See, that’s why God invented hotels,’ Tara said. She paused. ‘Although it didn’t work out too well for Mary, Joseph and the wee fella, but you get my point. This is the only other option. No exceptions. Just get a room and go out to eat. I have student vouchers for Pizza Hut!’
Beth threw her head back in frustration. ‘Have you seen how much a hotel in Dublin costs these days!’
‘Yes. Four million euros.’
‘Oh, ha-ha, very funny, but it might as well be,’ Beth replied, glaring at the incessantly sarcastic Tara. ‘It’s more than we can afford to spend anyway, vouchers or not. Please, just one night! I’ll take over the chores for a week. I’ll even wash all of the bedding, not just my own.’
Becky’s ears pricked up. ‘Oh really?’
Beth smiled, moving closer to Becky. ‘Uh-huh. I’ll even use some of that spring breeze fabric softener that you like so much…like the outdoors, indoors…’
