Chapter Ten - Michael
The clatter and chaos of breakfast drifts along the hallway as I descend the stairs. Nature calls and, without thinking, I push open the door to the guest bathroom at the rear end of the hall.
It’s already occupied…
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean…” Then I stall. The occupant is Klempner, face and beard foamed, wielding one of the old-fashioned cut-throat razors.
“Got a problem in Mitch’s place? Something wrong with the plumbing?”
He pauses, a naked stripe of skin visible through the foam, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “No, no problem. Mitch has been dissolving herself in the bath for the last hour.”
“Ah… At that ungodly temperature women seem to favour? The ritual usually includes perfume, oils and a lot of steam.”
“That’s the one. I preferred not to venture
