We were shattered on the last leg of our train journey home from our holiday. By the time we reached Perth we were almost asleep in our seats.
Once back in Edinburgh TPR headed straight home to unpack and I stopped off at the Stockbridge jeweller to pick up my diamond-encrusted pendant. I spent some time to chatting to the man behind the counter about his philosophy of life. He was a bright man, but had eschewed higher education and full-time employment to enjoy life while he could.
LC and KT also had part-time jobs in the shop. LC was excited about her forthcoming 40th birthday party in Perthshire, and suggested that I could stay with SC and TM over the weekend of the celebrations. I wondered if she might invite them along too. She also let slip that she had had a tummy tuck while I had been away.
My last act before I left the shop was to show KT and LC my scar. I hadn’t checked it myself for some time and was a little concerned to see that it was turning black with a purple bruise beneath it.
I started the walk home with a man who was confused over his address. What it Royal Terrace, Royal Crescent, or Regent Crescent? Happily I soon shook him off at Royal Circus, where I found JS.
JS and I stopped off at the house in Fettes Row which hosted the Petra Project. Here were displayed artefacts of early twentieth century feminism, including details of a publicity campaign from the 1920s aimed at boys. Its main message was that boyhood need not necessarily focus on playing with guns, climbing trees and torturing insects, but could also encompass other pursuits such as reading and embroidery. We became so absorbed in the exhibits that I accidentally left my bag of jewels downstairs unguarded for over half an hour. Luckily it was still there when I returned to the ground floor to retrieve it.
Then I remembered TPR – at home, unpacking everything from our holiday. It was now 9:30pm and he would be furious that I still hadn’t returned to help him.