“What the hell is that?” he says, pointing at a large, strangely shaped stain.
I sigh happily. “I used to think it looked exactly like Mr Daydream from the Mr Men books.”
He stares at me in abject disapproval.
I cannot understand you sounding so nostalgic about this dump.”
He examines the wall and the stain more closely. “It looks more like Mr Rising Damp and ooh look, over there is his friend Mr Subsidence.”
He eyes me beadily.
“And you paid rent for this place, the three of you? Or am I imagining that and the landlord actually paid you to live here?”
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