A day of lifting and lugging. With the aid of a few close friends Jo’s remaining boxes of belongings and pieces of furniture were stuffed into a car and a van and transported back to the flat.
The most exciting part of this was the great War Against the Mattress, a battle in at least three parts. As per some requirement known only to the mattress-makers guild of Australia, there were no handles on the mattress, so Marko and I manoeuvred the recalcitrant beast out of its upstairs lair and convinced it to wobble earthwards without getting caught on any of the picture hooks in the stairway. The other two then joined in to poke and prod it into the back of Lesley’s van, where it expanded to fill all available space.
Back at Richmond it took the combined efforts of three and many powerful swear-words to extricate it from the van, then before it had time to realise what we were doing, Marko and I chased it up the stairs and into the bedroom where it stood, looming ominously over the other bed.
A much needed beer was then consumed!
