Page 6 of The Way We Are Now

‘We were never allowed, as kids, to watch TV while we ate,’ I said, remembering. ‘I never got to watch Blue Peter. It was always on as we sat down to eat and my mum was pretty strict about not eating while the telly was on.’

‘What? You had supper at five o’clock?’

‘We had us tea then, yes.’ I laughed at Fliss’s face. ‘You posh southerners probably had supper much later?’

‘Well, yes, I watched Blue Peter and then ate a long time after that…’ Fliss broke off, her eyes moving from me towards the back of the restaurant, as I went into some detail about my childhood in Rothersley. ‘Shh, don’t look, don’t look… I said don’t look…’

‘Where am I not supposed to be looking?’ I laughed, moving my eyes down to the table and then, curious, immediately back to a noisy foursome making their way past our table to the entrance.

‘It’s him,’ Fliss squeaked.

‘Who?’

‘The one I’ve been going on about since the beginning of term. You know!’

‘Oh, the squash-playing all-American preppy jock?’

‘I don’t think he’s American,’ Fliss now said, her face assuming an uninterested demeanour as the man in question walked within inches of me, a beautiful blonde hanging possessively on to his arm.

‘Looks too upmarket for the Wimpy Bar.’ I smiled. ‘OK, yes, I can see where you’re coming from. Wouldn’t be my cup of tea. I mean, I can’t imagine him joining in with our protest this morning. And that’s what’s important, you know, Fliss.’

‘Get your priorities right, Anna,’ Fliss said sagely. ‘I think,’ she went on, once the four had left the restaurant and she began fanning her heated face with a napkin, ‘I think what is important is that he’s absolutely bloody gorgeous. And I intend to find out exactly who he is. And have him.’

2

‘We don’t normally employ other students to clean up after those living in our halls of residence.’ The woman from Residential Services and Cleaning Services, who’d been assigned to meet us in the stairwell at Bodington Hall, looked both of us up and down through narrowed eyes. ‘Why aren’t the pair of you in lectures yourselves? On a grant, aren’t you? Taxpayers’ hard-earned money? And yet you’re not going to lectures? Are you sure you’re up for this?’

‘Well, our bank accounts most certainly are, and we’re here,’ Fliss said cheerfully. ‘We did explain this to the woman yesterday – neither of us have lectures on Wednesday and Friday mornings. That’s two mornings we can clean for you. And,’ she went on, ‘we’re not a bit afraid of hard work.’ She glanced across at me. ‘I mean, how hard can it be?’

‘Students can be pretty disgusting creatures when it comes to clearing up after themselves.’ The woman – Yvonne, according to her name badge – sniffed. ‘The contract cleaners who normally come in are off, either with long-term sickness or just had enough and gone off to work at Asda. Can’t say I blame them. The students are supposed to clean up after themselves up to a point but, if they don’t, we move the cleaners in and then bill those in the shared flats. It’ll only be temporary work for the pair of you – I’m all set to interview, and hopefully set on, several new contract cleaners next week.’

‘Oh well.’ I smiled. ‘We’ll do our best.’

‘And I just love cleaning,’ Fliss chirruped as Yvonne took a key from around her neck and unlocked a door in front of her. ‘I’ve a touch of something called OCD, you see,’ she added confidentially. ‘So, lead on, Macduff…’

‘Sorry?’ The woman turned and gave Fliss such a look, I wanted to laugh.

‘Your cleaning necessities,’ Yvonne now said, handing over a couple of Day-Glo orange tabards with the words Leeds University Contract Cleaners emblazoned on both the front and back in black lettering. I had a sudden image of offenders in the US wearing their orange boiler suits when ordered to do Community Payback.

‘Now, you’ll see in every kitchen a list explaining who is responsible for what: you know’ – and here, Yvonne air-mimed the words – ‘“Know Your Cleaning Responsibilities”. Of course, they profess not to know them and that’s why we have to come in. So,’ she went on, handing over mop and bucket, dustpan and brush, toilet rolls, bleach and a rather cute red vacuum cleaner, apparently called Henry, ‘you’ll need this lot. And don’t, for heaven’s sake, mix the bleach with toilet cleaner. If you do, you’ll produce a toxic gas which will possibly blow the toilet user sky high as well as potentially wiping out the UK’s future doctors, dentists and lawyers.’

‘D’you get the feeling she doesn’t like students?’ I whispered as we dragged the cleaning paraphernalia up to the first of the twenty shared apartments.

‘Do not venture into the students’ actual bedrooms.’ Yvonne appeared to shudder at the very thought. ‘Not only do you not know who or… or… what they might have in their bedroom with them, but obviously there’s personal things – some expensive speakers and Hi-Fi paraphernalia – in there and you don’t want to be accused of stealing anything when said student has actually lost it while making his way home full of lager from the union bar…’

‘They lose their speakers on the way home from the pub?’ I giggled in an undertone to Fliss.

‘Yep,’ Fliss whispered back. ‘Students definitely not her bag.’

‘…so, I’m going to leave the pair of you in Flat 1. Please follow the instructions about bins, refuse sacks, how to clean the ovens, microwaves and fridges.’

‘Should we be checking the contents of the fridge?’ I asked, to show this woman I was a responsible cleaner and not just a second-year student wanting to make a fast buck. ‘You know, throw out anything that’s past its best?’

‘You’ll have a mutiny on your hands if you do,’ Yvonne said. ‘No, just clean the outside and inside of the fridges. I’ll come back in half an hour to see how you’re getting on and whether you’re doing it right.’

‘Right.’ Fliss and I spoke as one, and Yvonne pointed at a laminated list of instructions stuck to the inside of the kitchen door with Blu Tack.

‘Just follow the instructions that this lot are supposed to follow but don’t. Idle, entitled bloody lot they are.’ Yvonne gave one final sniff of disdain and left without a backwards glance.