Louise Candlish on…sofa trouble

December 2007

Above: Louise Candlish

When I was little I was told, among the many other maxims 1970s parents dispensed as freely as Crispy Pancakes and Angel Delight, ‘If there’s a way in, there’s a way out.’ I passed this advice on to Andrew only last Sunday when, in the spirit of getting the house ready for the festive season, I decided we needed a sofa rethink. Not willing to allow the 24-hour cooling-off period he suggested, I had the old green sofa in the front garden by midday and Lambeth booked to collect it. 

‘Just one problem,’ Andrew said. ‘Now we have no sofa to sit on.’

‘Yes we do,’ I said. ‘We’ll bring down the yellow sofa-bed we use for piling clothes on.’

Again, no cooling-off. By 12.30, the bed bit was removed from the sofa bit and the hauling underway. Five minutes later, outside the bathroom, we got stuck. That was when I told Andrew about the way-in, way-out thing, though what I actually said was, ‘If it bloody well came up, it’ll bloody well go down.’ 

Well, you can guess the rest. One of us got a bit bored and wandered off. She cooked and served a Nigella roast chicken, did the weekly shop, took her daughter to the park for an extended sandpit session, completed a whole collection of princess jigsaws, and when she came back she found Andrew and the sofa exactly where they’d been when she left. Only Andrew was now de-upholstering it (is ‘downholstering’ a word?) with an aim to removing one of the arms. Without its middle and one of its ends it looked a little like a soft yellow security scanner at the airport, as though you had to be frisked before you were allowed into the bathroom to do a pee.

It was finally manhandled into the living room at 8pm. I stood watching from the doorway as Andrew re-upholstered it. I noticed he was still in his dressing gown, though he now at least had a beer to hand.

‘Whatever you’re thinking of saying, Louise,’ he said, ‘Just remind yourself: eight hours. That’s how long it’s taken me. Eight hours.’

So I’ll say it here instead, in a whisper: the new one doesn’t look nearly as good as the old one. But it should be OK once the Christmas decorations are up.

Louise’s novel Since I Don’t Have You is out now in paperback (£6.99, Sphere)