Tea bags, Dettol wipes and Thomas the cat (part 2)

Thomas was an adorable cat.

He had long fur which was a little matted and slightly sticky.

He often slept up against the gate.

Every morning I used to give him a stroke under the chin and then politely ask him to move. Being the deaf old moggy he was, he never would. Late for work, I would try to encourage him to move out the way. Refusing to budge, I would end up pushing the metal railings up against his face so he would gradually shift to make way for me and my tussle of bags.

Every morning Thomas was there, faithfully sprawled out across the path - a little consumed by his ailments but happy nevertheless.

I always left for work via the backdoor and down the side path - via Thomas.

Inside the flat, almost everything was broken. The washing machine sat unused and had a pool of mouldy water inside. The boiler, which was underneath the sink, went out if you walked past it too quickly.

You could never open the drawers in the bedroom, instead you just removed the front of the top drawer and took what you needed from inside. The duvet cover had holes round the edges and the fridge hummed noisily in the front room.

I'd moved in to escape some terrible housemates from my previous place and plus it was cheap. When I did, I tried to make things homely and certainly did my best considering what I had to work with.

Books and DVDs went into neat piles and were moved to the side to make floor space. Instead of eating off our laps I placed plates onto abandoned dining room chairs as a makeshift table.

I think I even tried to bake once - nevertheless, several elements caught fire and I still have a large burn on my wrist to show for it. This was possibly due to my general lack of spatial awareness though - rather than the knackered cooker - but still.

The previous tenant had obviously had some sort of penchant for lobbing teabags at the bin from across the room and it was clear they had had a poor aim. The kitchen door and nearby walls were covered in teabag stains. I took to them the same way I take to life - armed with an element of frustration and a packet of Dettol wipes.

One day I got carried away and started to Dettol the electrical equipment around the house. That was the day my ex had to have words with me - I don't think it made him happy to see me spraying anti-bac all over his Xbox.

One morning I stepped out the backdoor on my way to work and found Thomas had gone. The gate was uninhibited and my daily toil no more. His ailments had got the better of him.

At the time I couldn't wait to move out and away from it all thinking how much happier I would be when everything worked and I could finally eat my dinner off a table, set with cutlery and folded napkins.

Now I look back and I think about the flat, our weird next-door neighbour who would occasionally root through our bins and little matted Thomas.

It's funny how you miss the broken things.