Oh man, let me tell you about how Emily dealt with some cheeky house guests.
Tom came home exhausted after work, and the flat smelled amazing—roast beef was in the oven, and Emily was chopping salad. He kissed her and said,
“Smells brilliant.”
“Trying my best for our guests,” she grinned.
“Guests? Mine?” Tom frowned. “I told you not to bother.”
“Well… they’re family. They’ve been working all day, they’ll need a proper meal.”
“You’ll see what I mean later,” he muttered. “Wish you’d listened.”
A couple hours before, his mum had called.
“Love, Lucy—Lydia’s daughter—just bought a flat near you with her husband. No running water till the plumbing’s fixed. Lydia’s asking if they can pop over to shower for a couple days.”
Tom wasn’t thrilled. He’d never liked Lucy—just as sly as her mum.
“Fine, but only for a shower. Nothing else,” he sighed.
Lucy and her husband Dave turned up by evening.
“Hello! I’m Lucy, this is my husband. You must be Emily?”
Without waiting, Lucy wandered around, touching everything, even peeking into the bedroom. Tom shut the door.
“I thought you were just here for the shower?”
“Oh, right! Emily, got any spare towels? We forgot ours.”
After they washed, they lingered. Sat in the lounge, sniffing the roast.
“That smells divine!” Lucy chirped. “What’s cooking?”
Emily sighed and invited them to eat.
They cleared their plates… then left behind the towels, sponges, and shampoo. Emily groaned.
“The shampoo’s fine, but those sponges are ruined.”
Next day? Same thing. Then the day after. Emily made broccoli bake—Lucy pulled a face.
“Ugh! You actually eat this? Where’s the steak?”
Fourth night was pasta with bolognese. Lucy complained again.
“Hardly any meat! Just sauce.”
Tom finally asked Dave, “When’s the water back on?”
“Oh, it’s fixed,” Dave admitted.
Lucy jumped in. “But the showerhead’s not fitted yet…”
After dinner, Emily gave Tom a look.
“I’ve got a plan. Just play along.”
Next evening, when the guests settled in, Emily brought out a tray of plain porridge, grated apple, and honey.
“‘Beauty Pudding.’ Super healthy. Tom and I only eat this now.”
Lucy forced a bite… then pushed it away. They left quick.
“Your turn to cook,” Emily whispered. “There’s frozen dumplings.”
A few days later, Lucy rang.
“You’re not serving that pudding again, are you?”
“Afraid so,” Tom sighed. “Emily’s dead set. But hey—if you come, bring some roast beef? I’m starving.”
“Actually… we’re sorted now. Got water *and* a showerhead.”
Later, Tom’s mum called.
“Lydia says Emily’s not feeding you properly!”
“Mum, don’t be daft. I’m fine. Oh—and we’re selling this flat, moving into a house next month. Then we’ll see who *really* needs favours.”
