It started out as such a lovely morning. Breakfast at the B&B, then met the estate agent at the flat. She was there waiting for us outside, gave me the key, and took us up to the flat where I was to sign the lease. I walked in and was shocked. There was no furniture. Nothing. Nothing at all.
I asked where everything was, and she said, ‘This flat is unfurnished. I thought you knew.’
Obviously, I didn’t, or else I would have never taken it. I didn’t know what to do, and I was silent for a bit before my Dad started.
‘Why did you think it was furnished?’
I told him that HP had sent pictures with the flat, furniture and all. Plus, the advert said ‘White goods only’.
Dad looked at me sternly, then said, ‘What the bloody hell did you think that meant?’
I thought it included all the white furniture. The sofa was white, the bookshelves were white, the desk was white, etc. How was I supposed to know that white goods are the cooker and fridge? They aren’t even white. They’re a brushed steel sort of colour.
That’s when Dad went off. ‘You need to pay more attention’, ‘This is how you get yourself into situations’, ‘If you don’t understand something, look things up before acting.’
I started to cry. And the poor estate agent peeped that she had some furnished flats we could look at, but they wouldn’t be available for a month. This made me cry even more. I mean, snot and tears crying, and I said ‘But I don’t want to wait a month. I want to live here.’
Dad completely took this wrong and said ‘If you think I’m going to kit out this flat, you’ve got another thing coming missy. I bet you did this whole thing on purpose just to get new furniture.’
I started yelling, ‘I’m not Katie. I just made a mistake!’
The estate agent said that she’d step outside while we made our decision, which was so embarrassing. As soon as she left, Dad said that I ‘made my bed’ so I had to ‘lie in it’. The choice of words certainly weren’t lost on me, so I started snickering. And Dad then realised what he said, and started to laugh too. ‘You do get yourself into some messes, don’t you?’, and with that he went and opened the door for the estate agent.
I signed the lease and gave over my deposit and first months rent. Dad and I switched the electricity and gas into my name. It was suddenly mine. All mine. An empty one bedroom flat in Dundee.
We found the big Tescos and set ourselves the task of getting everything I need. Dad insisted on food essentials first (pasta, rice, potatoes, squash…that sort of thing), then we moved to the kitchenware. Dishes, silverware, a few pots, glasses, a kettle and a cheap microwave were easy decisions, but when it came to the other stuff I had no idea what to buy. So Dad called Paula, and she talked us through things like a big spoon, colander, potato masher, knives, corkscrew. All the sort of stuff, I know I’ll need, but wouldn’t think about it until I needed it. Then she asked about abed. Dad had already talked to Paula, and told her about my mistake with about the ‘white goods’ which he is now finding absolutely hilarious. (He even told the woman at the till at Tescos, and they had a right old laugh at my expense.) Paula insisted that Dad buy me a bed, but (as usual) Dad’s having none of it if it means he’s got to loosen the purse strings. But Paula talked him around to buying me a mattress. God I love that woman.
After Tescos we went to Argos and found a cheep double, which I’ll put directly on the floor until I can afford a frame. We also got some big pillows, a bean bag and a couple of rugs at Argos. In the end, my Christmas present came to a little over £200, and I was completely ready for Dad to have an epi, but he didn’t even mention the price. Paula really does know how to sooth the savage paternal beast.
He’s just left, and I’m alone in my empty flat. The mattress is being delivered on Friday, so it all seems quite stark. (Good thing I brought the bedside lamp from Mum’s) But luckily I still have my mobile internet dongle from Glasgow, so I’ll be internetting it tonight. Thank goodness for the bloggesphere.