Travel Reference
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“Oh my God,” she giggled uncertainly. “And now you've got poor homeless Kevin on
your hands.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don't worry. I'll have him out in a day or two.”
I was speechless. “Listen Jane…”
“Got you!” she yelped (I was beginning to wonder if she'd finally succumbed to the
island's intense October heat). “I'm joking ,” she said in a less manic tone. “Just making a
little joke. Put him on the phone. I'll get him out of there in a jiff.”
I handed the phone to Kevin, who had been following our conversation with the ex-
pression of a rescue dog hoping to be sprung from the pound.
“Hullo,” he mumbled, his voice quivering slightly. He listened, mouth slightly agape,
as Jane talked. “Okay,” he said in the same flat voice, then handed the phone back to me.
“He'll be out of your hair in thirty minutes flat,” Jane informed me, all business now.
“But it'll take me longer to round up Lydia and bring her over to clean up the place. Prob-
ably a couple of hours.”
I did the math. Lydia would be vacuuming and dusting at six o'clock.
“You know what,” I said, “we'll just do it ourselves and save the money.”
Jane was aghast. “But the bathroom,” she wailed. “I'm not having you clean up Kevin's
mess.”
“Hey, it's fine, just relax,” I said, walking towards the bathroom. It couldn't be that bad.
“Oh Jesus,” I said, almost involuntarily. It was an absolute pigsty.
“Tell me,” she intoned breathlessly, as if we were discussing porn.
I gulped. “Well, it's pretty grim.”
“Save it for me. I'm on my way.”
I did as I was told. She had chosen the bathroom as her penance. Who was I to interfere?
By the time Jane got there, Kevin was long gone, and Michael and I had stripped the
bed, cleaned up the kitchen and swept the whole house. Jane knocked off the bathroom in
a jiff. Then we sat down for a celebratory drink.
“So what do you think of the staircase?” she asked, clearly proud of what she'd accom-
plished.
“It's fabulous.”
She sat back with a contented sigh.
“I have to admit, that was one painful project.”
“It must have been awful when they brought it over the first time and it didn't fit.”
Jane nodded, flashing back to the moment.
“Alfredo was crushed. He came to me with tears in his eyes. He said, 'Miss Jane, that
circle ladder do not fit.'”
“Circle ladder?” Michael repeated.
“That was his name for the spiral staircase.”
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