**A Friends Tale: A Marriage of Love**
One fine day, my friend decided to marry. For love, of course. His bride was lovely, clever, and fiercely independent. She worked as an accountant for a large firm and earned a tidy sum.
My friend, James, wasnt about to fall short either. He took on extra work, clocking long hours to pay off the mortgage on their flat faster.
Theyd bought the place togetherscrimped, saved, took out a loan, and even had a bit of help from family. They renovated it beautifully, in a modern style, and decorated it just right. By all accounts, it was a life set for happiness.
Yet happiness didnt come. His wife couldnt keep up with the housework. Either she didnt know how to mop, dust, or have dinner ready on time, or she simply couldnt be bothered. Shed say she was exhausted from work, coming home late. Fair enoughbut James was no layabout either. He worked late too.
So began the daily rows over who did more at home. The first six months were spent in battles, their flat strewn with laundry and piles of unwashed dishes. Still, neither confessed the real reason for their arguments to family. Pride kept them silent.
One evening, James went fishing with his father-in-law. Both were keen anglers, which was why they got on so well. By the campfire, a glass of whisky in hand, James unburdened himself, swearing the older man to secrecyespecially from his wife.
His father-in-law promised discretion but said their home would never know peace without a “house guardian.”
“Ive just the thing,” he said. “When I have a moment, Ill persuade him to move in with you.”
James thought the man had gone mad but held his tongue.
The following week, his father-in-law turned up with a kitten. James was furious. What use was that? Just more mess! But the older man beckoned him outside for a smoke and reminded him of the “guardian.” Hed brought it along with the cat, he said, and things would improve now. All he asked was that they treat the little thing kindly.
James took to the kitten at once. Tiny and affectionate, she latched onto him, trailing after him, begging for strokes. The only hiccup was a small “accident” on the floor one night. But that was it.
The next day, when James came home, the flat was spotless. No clothes strewn about, and his wife was cooking a proper meal!
Cheered, James finally put up the bathroom shelf hed long promised.
The day after, he found his wife vacuuming the rugs. Well, he pitched in tootook out the rubbish, fetched bread, and even bought a bottle of wine. Dinner felt like a celebration. They couldnt remember the last time theyd done something so nice.
The whole week was like that. Joy had returned to their home.
That Sunday night, his wife said, “No need to come home at lunch tomorrow. Ive bought litter and set up a spot for the cat in the loo.”
“For who?”
“Your kitten. I know youve been sneaking home to tidy up. But dont worryIve got it sorted now.”
James was stunned. He hadnt been home at all. Hed thought she was the one cleaning! But it seemed shed been ashamed to do nothing in a tidy house.
The next day, he slipped out of work early. Pretended to leave, then crept back silently, phone in hand.
Around noon, he heard the key turn. The kitten dashed to the door, mewing a welcome. Then a gentle voice cooed, “Oh, Daisy, Ive missed you! Brought you milk and a fresh treat. Looks like youve learned to use the litter tray…”
The bedroom door opened. His father-in-law stood there, startled.
“So*this* is our ‘house guardian,’ eh?”
The older man flushed. “Well, I gave you the cat. Thought Id help look after her, at least at first.”
“And howd you get a key?”
“Pinched it from your ring when we went fishing. Had a copy made, slipped it back the next day…”
Three years on, James and his wife are happy. Theyve a little one now. And to this day, no one knows who truly was the “guardian” that once lived in their flat…
