Wrong flat

I had no idea there was such an interest in soft furnishings amongst the readers of this column. But since I wrote about the trials and tribulations of moving home and more particularly the traumatic delivery of my famous purple sofa, so many people have stopped me in the street and enquired as to whether I am enjoying sitting on the thing, I felt I should publish an update.

The sofa has indeed arrived and as far as I can see is a splendid affair. However, rather than allowing me to enjoy a gin and tonic while lounging on its generous upholstery, as per published plan, it remains in its shrink-wrap plastic packaging. For despite my incredible efficiency, list ticking and detailed aforethought, I haven’t actually moved into my new abode!

For various technical reasons too dull to expand upon, the existing tenants of my new home are still in residence, so I have been given temporary use of an adjoining fully equipped up-market maisonette until things have been sorted out.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s a beautiful apartment with two bathrooms, two balconies, a flat screen telly and all the fan-assisted ovens, dishwashers and heated towel rails one could wish for. The cupboards are full of gleaming glassware and all I had to unpack was my toothbrush. It’s a bit like having a posh hotel suite but with no staff to make the bed.

Some of the furnishings make my own stuff look like the detritus of a car boot sale. The polished oak dining table is particularly splendid and I’m rather scared to use it for my nightly ready-meal. But as my regular readers will recall, I have spent months web-surfing in order to find the aforementioned suitably regal couch to match the splendiferously swagged in situ purple window drapes in my new place and I can’t wait to install it.

I can of course claim compensation for the pain and inconvenience of having to reside in such luxury. But it’s not home, and I hope to be able to reclaim my purple palace as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I must call down to reception about the lack of turn-down service.

Oh, I forgot. I have to do that myself.

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