Hope for hoarders dashed (Rousse)

The back staircase was decorated pink. The neat piles of junk on the steps were numerous – perhaps an indication that, at long last, my parents were having a clear-out.

However, when I stumbled over a box of out of date raisons that was open at both ends, I began to scale down my hope of a tidy parental abode. On seeing three new sofas in the breakfast room – all navy blue like my own recent acquisition – we knew that the hoarding of the discarded belongings of others was still the order of the day.

When TPR observed that the drawing room was looking rather cramped, my father slapped him across the cheek. We couldn’t be certain that this was in jest.

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