After all they had been through? All that laughter and sharing and sex ... what about the sex? Oh the sex. Did that mean nothing? Really?

  At that point she smiled sweetly, incorporated a jump and 180 degree turn into one action, squealed a bit like a pig and dropped about a metre through the floor.

  Actually, I suspect that falling through the floor happened a fraction of a second before, and led to the squealing like a pig but don't let that detract from the rather comic effect which was that at a point almost directly below the hole that had become such a feature of the ceiling, a similar chasm had opened in the floor. The result of this event was that Juliet had now become noticeably shorter than she was a second ago. Once she had overcome her initial shock she summed up her situation nicely.

  “What the ... [Insert expletive of choice here]!" I provide this service in case anyone should be offended by the word I was originally going to use which, by the way, starts with an F! (This would translate to WTF! for those hip young things who no longer use actual words!)

  It seems that the ceiling was not the only place where dodgy work had been done. After many years of nagging, Mr Joshua Clyde finally promised his wife a decent kitchen. Unfortunately, whilst well intentioned, Mr Clyde was not a man of substantial means. This led to a series of cost cutting measures that may have eventually led to the situation faced the current occupants of the kitchen, particularly the lovely Juliet.

  Clearly the planning of the works had not considered the possibility that the ceiling would be used as a hideout or that the floor may need to absorb the impact of falling/jumping bodies in later years. By the time Jonathan had bought the house Mr Clyde had long since sought refuge well underground and could no longer be contacted by the living to account for his poor workmanship.  Probably just as well because if he had not already occupied a grave there is a very good chance that Juliet would have ensured that he soon would have.

  Slowly, grunting in a very unlady like manner, she extracted herself from the hole, noticeably without assistance by the other two who were both too busy gaping, floor and/or ceiling like, to actually move. Then, with as much dignity that someone in her current situation could muster, she clenched her hands by her side and left. She could tell that Emily would be smirking but she didn't want to give the other girl the satisfaction of being witness to it.

  The door slammed behind her and she was gone. Just like that. After turning his life upside down, she turned her back on him and went without so much as a goodbye. It was hard not to take that kind of thing personally.

  His world began to condense as all that expansion he had previously felt evaporated. Jonathan Theodore had become a victim of his own gullibility. How stupid he had been. How completely taken in right from the first moment she fell through his ceiling and into his life.

  Life?

  That wasn't a life. That was just a collection of to do lists and the same tedious daily routine. It took less than a week with a total stranger for him to realise that, and now she is gone. What happens now?

  At that moment, when it felt like his whole existence might just implode, he felt a hand slide into his and he turned his gaze to stare into a pair of beautiful bespectacled eyes at the same level as his.

  What's this?

  He looked down and there was little Emily Baker's hand carefully meshed into his.

  Really?

  The more he started to think about it the more it started to make sense.

  Wasn't it true that one reason he went to the library every day was because of the cute little librarian that he was too shy to actually talk to?

  Of course it was.

  And didn't he occasionally fantasise about he and the librarian sharing a life together? Yes, it's true. One of those fantasies may have actually had them wearing very similar jumpers! So similar as to be called identical! There's commitment for you!

  And now she was here. Not only that but she was holding his hand.

  Wow. I mean ... Wow!

  For an awfully long time, Jono gave a very good impression of a stunned mullet. Eventually he turned his gaze to little Emily Baker who smiled sweetly in response. Slowly his face replied with a smile of its own. Then he sniggered. Then he chuckled. Then he laughed. Then he laughed even more. Then the laugher got louder and louder as if carried away by its own momentum almost to the point of hysteria.

  Emily frowned and wondered if being connected to the cackling idiot next to her was such a good idea. But then, as if infected by the same disease, she too broke into noisy rapture.

  Some moments later, after the crescendo had subsided, Jono sighed happily. Isn't it amazing how things can change, just like that? Maybe everything was going to work out after all.

  He smiled. Then he sniggered. Then he chuckled. Then he...

  "Stop it!"

  "Sorry."

  Sunday

  The Sunday routine consists of the following:

  Wake up - tick

  Whisper good morning to the person you had held all through the night - tick

  Get up and make breakfast for two (I think you can work out the menu) - tick

  Go back to bed and ... (I think you can work that out as well) - tick

  Tell someone you love them - tick

  Wait for what seems like forever for them to say the same - tick

  Lay back and experience total bliss – tick

  The End.

  But wait.

  Is that a crazy unexpected twist I see in the near future?

  ... No, it isn't.

  Everyone goes on to live really boring uneventful lives.

  Goodbye.

  ###

 
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