Shit

This morning I awoke to a deathly silence, deathly silence is very nice but I am used to waking to the sound of the neighbour saying "OY!!" I am also used to hearing the people over the road coming home at 4 am and shouting into their mobiles, I must have slept through that, and the neighbour, I realise, will not be awake yet,  as it is 6.30 AM. The most worrying thing about the deathly silence is that usually Evil is awake at 6.30 AM and when she wakes up she coughs copiously. I hear Maisie getting out of bed, I hear her sigh and stumble into the loo. I hear the loo flush and I remember that I have arranged for a plumber to come today to help with the resulting terrible grinding noise, then I realise that Evil must have died overnight, alone and grief-stricken in the kitchen, which is why she's not coughing. Maisie knocks on our bedroom door.
"Oh for god's sake." Says John.
Evil has poohed all over the kitchen." Says Maisie.
"Oh my God." Says John.
"How do you know?" I ask. "You haven't even been downstairs yet."
"I can smell it." Says Maisie. I can see Maisie silhouetted in the doorway. The light from the landing has surrounded her head with an aureole of gold. She looks like an angel.
"Oh fuck." says John covering his head with a pillow.
"I'll deal with it." I tell him, patting the pillow reassuringly.
I get out of bed, I find my glasses and I pull on a huge purple jumper that I bought on impulse in TK Max. It's a very warm jumper with a polo neck, but actually it's not very attractive.
 "I'll make you breakfast, then you won't have to go into the kitchen." I tell Maisie.
I warm up a raisin and cinnamon bagel and I make Maisie and me a cup of tea.
 I have pulled the polo neck of the giant jumper up over my nose and I step carefully around the pools of diarrhoea and vomit  on the kitchen floor. If I tread in any, I know I will literally die.
I wash my and hands four times. I haven't touched any diarrhoea but I sort of think it might be floating around in the thick atmosphere.
"It's OK," I tell Evil who is sitting, shivering, on the pee soaked Greek rug. "You're not well." But secretly I really hate her and I know from experience that she can read my mind.
I set about cleaning up the pooh. I get Flash Liquid kitchen spray and kitchen towels from under the sink. I get rags and copies of the Sun from the recycling and I get my steam cleaner from the laundry room.
I begin to clean up the pooh. I retch quite a lot but the purple jumper's polo neck is invaluable.
"Bye," calls Maisie and I hear the front door slam.
Much later I steam clean the whole kitchen floor and I decide to take Evil to the vet.