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It was the sort of charming chaos that would probably win a prize at the Chelsea Flower Show. The three friends had been living here for nearly six months, and it still looked nothing like home.
    Robbie folded his newspaper and brushed the crumbs from this morning’s toast from the place mats on the table. He ambled to the drawer and clattered about until he found three forks, which he plonked on the table while Christian dished out the curry.
    Rebecca finished with her nail polish and slid it back into her handbag as she admired her handiwork. “Has your allowance come through yet, Christian?”
    â€œShould be in the bank today if Pater and Mater haven’t disinherited me for some imagined misdemeanor.”
    â€œCan you give me a sub? I’m a bit short.”
    â€œSure.” Christian brought the plates to the table. “I’m going to have to tap P and M for a tad more cash. This pittance just isn’t keeping us in the style to which we have become accustomed. I don’t make enough at the market to keep me in beer.”
    â€œSpeaking of which…” Robbie opened some Tiger Beers and passed the bottles round. Christian drank from his gratefully.
    â€œThe tourist season is just beginning,” Robbie said. “A couple more weeks and your earnings will soar.”
    â€œNot quite to the levels my father would have hoped for in the city job he managed to wangle me.”
    â€œMaybe you should have taken it, Chris.”
    â€œI’m an artist, for heaven’s sake. Can you see me in an Armani suit, crunching numbers in front of a screen all day? No thanks, old man. My spirit would be crushed by the weight of responsibility within days.”
    â€œYou mean you’d have to get off your lazy arse and do some real work.”
    â€œYou’re beginning to sound like my father.” Christian flopped down. “How is life behind the counter of HMV?”
    â€œYou’re a bastard.” Robbie laughed and Christian joined in. They clinked their beer bottles together.
    â€œHere’s to being idle beggars all our lives!” Christian toasted enthusiastically.
    â€œHave we had any more letters?” Robbie asked as he dug in.
    â€œOne from the electricity company, threatening disconnection.” Rebecca raised her eyebrows and teased round the edge of her food with her fork.
    â€œDamn!”
    â€œWe’re going to have to do something about it, Christian,” Robbie said.
    â€œI know. I know. I’m just not sure what.”
    â€œCan’t we just pay it?”
    â€œHow can we do that?” Christian asked. “There must be someone we know who can sort it.”
    â€œPater and Mater,” Rebecca mimicked.
    â€œThey’ve rescued you more than once,” Christian reminded her. “These companies are all talk. They hardly ever disconnect anyone these days. They’d be sued for violating human rights, or something. We need you to get preggers, Becs. Then we could all get a council house together.”
    Rebecca gave him a stony look. “Ha, ha.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” Christian assured her. “We’ve probably got ages to get it sorted.”
    â€œI hope you’re right,” Rebecca said, and finally swallowed a mouthful of food.
    They all ate silently as the sun in its last throes moved over the garden, filling the kitchen with a warm, golden glow which brought out the best in it.
    â€œSo, who is it this time?” Robbie said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWho’s the lucky lady?”
    â€œOh,” Christian said, happy to push away thoughts of unpaid electricity bills. “Her name’s Ali. Alicia.”
    â€œTop totty?”
    â€œMore than top totty, my uncultured little friend. Destined to be the love of my life. I’m talking soul mate, Robert, my boy. Soul mate.”
    â€œOoo,” Robbie said. “This is a new departure.”
    â€œI am a changed man,”