It's never a good idea to leave your clothes out on the bed when you go to have a shower.
Fortunately I don't iron, so the shirt was crumpled before it got slept on by a cat. She just added the clean fresh smell of tuna. As it turned out though, the lingering odour of fish was less of a problem than anticipated, because my scheduled property inspection never took place.
I spoke at length to my landlord and his lovely wife (otherwise known as my brother and sister-in-law) on Monday, who informed me that they were taking a short holiday "near the M25" this week. Which sounds like the kind of Easter getaway people dream of. Benidorm must have been full. So I gave them the phone number of my flat (which strangely they didn't seem to have, despite owning the place), and received assurances that they would be travelling down from their motorway hideaway to visit me on Wednesday. Meaning I had Tuesday to clean the place.
So after 23 hours with a bottle of Cif (the 24th was spent in Happy Valley), I put on my seafood shirt and awaited their arrival. Or possibly a phone call. Neither of which came. If it had been anyone else, I'd have phoned 999 and reported them missing, but this is my brother and sister-in-law we're talking about. They're never less than three hours late for anything, and don't know how to use a phone. They could still turn up now and not think anything's wrong. But the good news is their eight-year-old daughter is coming down to visit me today, and she will be on time. Mainly because they're not coming with her.
Anyhoo, talking of 999 (this link is seamless), this is actually my 999th blog post. No, really, I wouldn't make up something that dull. But it could also be my last - I'm expecting some kind of millennium bug to kick in tomorrow.