I knocked on my housemates' door, bag in hand, coat hanging on my frame, a hastily-found piece of paper clutched in my fist. They usually didn't take too long to answer, and we'd be leaving the house at any minute; this shouldn't really delay our egress to quieter climes.
There was a muffled "just a minute!" from the male half.
I don't think I've ever heard him say that before. Both of them are architects - and Eastern European, to boot - a good mix leading to things like "punctuality" and "work ethic". Why they get on well with me is beyond comprehension. Nevertheless, I'm glad they do.
Just as I was thinking about returning to my room, the door opened. Hastily closing it behind him, and dressed - evidently in a hurry, and only in pyjamas (this being the middle of the day), stood the male half of my housemate duo.
"Sorry to have interrupted you," I said, smiling benignly. "We're going away for a week - looking after my auntie and uncle's cats until next Sunday..."
"And we're supposed to be looking for flats together?"
"So I'll give you my e-mail address, and my phone number, in case there are any developments of any kind..."
"Okay thanks I'll keep you updated on anything bye!" And he was gone.
I stood at the door. Not listening. No. Not at all.
"Did you give it to him?" my girlfriend asked, as I walked back into our room and continued packing.
"Yeah. I mean, they were having sex, so I didn't want to interrupt too much..."
"They were having sex?"
"I assume so."
It's hardly a surprise. I have, in fact, heard them having sex before (or, at least, I think it was them; it could have been Five watching porn, but I do somehow doubt that - it was too quiet for anything at all that Five does, since he doesn't appear to have a volume control on his TV). They're also both in their early thirties and hot. And he works all week with long hours. I'd have been having sex too.
Which makes me wonder if they've heard us.
If we're going to be sharing a flat, it's pretty much a prerequisite.