21/5/2012 Approached the flat with caution this morning at 8am. Found the keys hidden in the electric box and got in holding my breath with anxiety. It looked OK. They had done some cleaning up – the wife was always worried about hygiene. In the first long text of complaint I received from them after they moved in, they listed, “layers of dirt,” and “fleas” in the carpet.
Later after she had been convinced there were no fleas she said she could see dust mites. The last thing I heard before the outbreak of hostilities was her insistence that there was a stain on the carpet in the hallway which would give her asthma.
Looking at that bit of carpet today in the early morning light, I could see there was no stain of any kind there at all.
Being so conscious of these things they had dusted every shelf and cleaned every drawer and cupboard – unfortunately for me they had also emptied every drawer and cupboard. There was nothing left, not a pan, a wash-cloth, a pedal bin, waste basket, or Little Henry vacuum cleaner. All gone. They had indeed cleaned the place out.
They’d even taken a rather melancholy old stick umbrella that used to hang on the back of the door, used by many tenants over the years. I saw it as a token of London.
It is strange to think that in their new place, where ever it is, they will be cooking in purloined pans and at night cuddled up together in bed be reading by the light of a lamp stolen from me.