Chapter 7

Clive and his wife were woken by the alarm clock on his wife's bedside cabinet. It was five. Clive leapt up, fetched the clothes he had ready and jumped into the shower. Mrs Beechcroft got up more slowly than Clive. Putting on her grey dressing gown, she disappeared down the stairs, reappearing 10 minutes later with two cups of coffee. She put her husband's coffee on the bookshelf in the hall outside and took a few mouthfuls of her own before placing it on the bedside cabinet.

There were two chests of drawers; one for her and one for Clive. They were, like the rest of the furniture in the house, made from pine. She walked over to her own and opened the first drawer. Mrs Beechcroft let out a gasp and then a clunk sounded from the bathroom.


She knocked on the door.

"Sorry - dropped the shampoo".

Mrs Beechcroft returned to the drawer. All her clothes seemed to her eye to have changed in colour and style. There was a dark blue jacket with matching trousers, a white shirt and a lovely looking dark green dress, all in a row. Mrs Beechcroft lifted them up and placed them on the bed. She then looked at the second row. A light grey shirt and skirt, a black jacket and trousers and a deep red dress, all folded beautifully. She replaced the clothes she had taken out before opening the second drawer. The second drawer contained pyjamas, nightdresses and sweaters. Once more all of them were different.

Mrs Beechcroft opened all five drawers only to find that everything was different. She stood staring when footsteps indicated Clive's arrival. Clive was dressed in his usual clothes. Today he wore a blue checked shirt and dark brown trousers together with yesterday's jumper. He was drying his hair with a towel.

"Thanks for the coffee".

He hung his towel up and picked up his cup. "You'd better get dressed sweetheart".

"Clive..." began his wife.

"Oh come on. Don't tell me you can't decide what to wear."

"It's not that. It's just...these clothes..."

"What about them?"

"They weren't here yesterday."

"Don't be silly darling."

"But they weren't Clive. I'm sure of it."

"Did you wear your pyjamas and dressing gown to work yesterday?"

"Of course not, or... hang on, did I?"

Clive burst out laughing. "That was a joke."

"Oh yes, of course." Mrs Beechcroft gave a faint smile.

"Anyway - breakfast. I'll fix it this time."

He started to go out of the room.

"But Clive, what shal I wear?"

Clive came back in. He picked out the dark blue jacket and trousers, the white shirt and a pair of socks and laid them on the bed.

"Thanks Clive."

"Just pull yourself together love."

His footsteps echoed away down the uncarpeted stairs.

The End

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