Clean

“Do you want to come in... for coffee?” Stella gazed up and gave her eyelashes a brief flutter.

“Mmm,” Greg smiled down at her, “coffee sounds... great.”

Stella smiled, turned the key in the door and pushed it open. “Come on in. Oh hello, Mr Snuffles. How are you, my little cutiepops?" She bent down and scooped the mewling cat into her arms, ruffling his fur and holding him up to face Greg. “Greg, meet Mr Snuffles, Mr Snuffles, meet Greg.”

“Uh, hi Mr Snuffles? Stella, could I just use your loo?”

“Of course, it’s just through there. I’ll do the coffee.”

Stella put the kettle on, got two mugs from the cupboard and scooped coffee into the cafetiere.

“Oh my God!” Greg sprinted out of the bathroom, tripped over the sofa, scrambled to his feet and stared at Stella wild-eyed. “There’s something in there. Something ... moving.”

“What’s wrong? What are you talking about?”

“Look.” He pointed dramatically, finger trembling.

With a gurgling noise and quiet footsteps, a creature waddled into the room and glared up at Greg with large red eyes. Thick dark green fur sprouted from a squat body, twin rows of orange spikes ran across its head. Claw-like hands hung at the end of its scrawny arms. A thick black tongue slid slowly in and out of its mouth, exposing long, yellow fangs.

“Oh, it’s Bert,” said Stella pouring water into the cafetiere.

“Bert?” Greg looked incredulous.

“Well, I call him Bert. He just looks like a Bert, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know what he looks like.”

Bert bared his fangs, a growl low in his throat.

“Now, Bert, Greg didn’t mean anything by that, did you Greg?”

Greg stared at Bert. “But what is it?”

“Oh well, you know I told you I’m a bit of a comper; I like entering competitions on the internet, just for fun, you know. Well, I saw this one where you could win a Grime Demon: ‘guaranteed to keep your home clean – you won’t need to lift a finger’. Well, I’m not a big housework person so I went for it. Answered some silly question, you know, ‘What is the capital of France: Paris, Milton Keynes, or the moon?’ Couple of days later I got an email saying I’d won. I was expecting like a Dust Devil, that little hoover-type thing? But when I answered the door there was a guy in a black cloak just going out the gate and a basket on the doorstep. And inside was Bert.”

“But what is Bert?”

“I don’t really know, to be honest, but he’s a godsend round this place. I mean look at it. It’s absolutely spotless.”

Greg looked round. The flat was immaculate. Not a speck of dust to be seen. The kitchen taps gleamed.

“He does my clothes too, washes and irons. He’s a marvel, he really is. Aren’t you Bert? Now you two, don’t start.”

Bert swiped out as Mr Snuffles approached. The cat hissed and arched his back, electrified fur on end.

“Bert, Mr Snuffles, stop that or I’ll put you both outside.” Bert whimpered then scuttled into the kitchen. “He hates being outside; just cries and cries, poor lamb.”

Bert jumped up and squatted by the sink, staring balefully at the cat, which slunk into the bedroom with a flick of its tail. Bert shook his head then emptied the coffee grounds from the cafetiere into his mouth. He poked his tongue out, squirted washing up liquid onto it, then proceeded to lick the cafetiere clean. He rinsed it out, peered at it critically then, satisfied, placed it on the draining board.

“See,” said Stella proudly. “Thank you, Bert. Greg, here’s your coffee. Shall we adjourn to the living room?”

Greg stared at Bert for a moment then took his coffee and followed Stella to the sofa.

“So,” Stella whispered, stroking his arm, “what shall we do now?”

Greg grinned. He put his cup on the table and leaned towards Stella who lifted her lips to meet his.

Something tugged at his sleeve. He looked round. Bert fixed him with a glare then looked pointedly at the cup on the table.

“Coaster,” said Stella.

“Oh, sorry, yes, sure.” Greg slid the coaster under the cup. “Okay?” he asked Bert. Bert scowled and waddled away to sit in the corner.

“Now,” Stella pulled him towards her, “where were we?”

“Mmm, round about here, I think.” Greg kissed her, his hands moving down her body, stroking her thigh.

He stopped.

“What is it,” Stella asked.

“Bert is licking my shoes.”

“Oh, well they must have needed a clean. Look, he’s brought them up with a lovely shine.”

Greg stood up. “Look, I’ve got to go.”

“Already? You’ve only just got here.” Stella stood up, smoothing her skirt.

Bert sniffed doubtfully at the seat of Greg’s trousers and wrinkled his nose.

Greg jumped away from him. “Yes. I really need to go... somewhere else. Thanks for a... lovely evening.”

“Yes, it’s been great. We should do it again.”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll call you. Bye.” The door slammed.

Stella frowned after him. “Well, that was a bit weird. Looks like it’s just you and me again, Bert.” She flicked the television on and settled back onto the sofa. Bert snuggled up next to her and fell asleep, snoring contentedly.