Following a week of unpaid training, I felt able to offer JS £200 per day to work in my consulting firm. The only problem was that I added to her payroll before we had any clients. In fact, we didn’t even have any premises at this time.
I asked TPR if he could decorate two shabby rooms at the back of the house. These could serve as our offices for the time being.
When Martin Jarvis was working on the counter of the public library, I wasn’t the only one desperate for him to put down his stamp and read stories to us instead.
‘Just half an hour, please!’ I begged.
There was quite a crowd of us on holiday together in the north of Scotland. This made it difficult to enjoy time on my own with my Canadian cousins NT and DT, who had crossed the Atlantic to spend a couple of weeks with us during the heatwave.
Then I came up with a plan. I would suggest a day trip to Orkney with my cousins. There were two problems with this, however. First, news spread that I was organising a day out and others were now interested in joining us. Second, the ferries no longer ran from Caithness to South Ronaldsay. The proposed trip was doomed before it even began.
My new job was driving a red wooden train in a New York department store. The best part of the job was tooting the horn and aggressively waving at shoppers, insisting they move to the side of the aisles so I could speed along unhindered.
After I clocked off, I walked to Central Park where I encountered an enormous human pyramid consisting of Aston Villa and Manchester City fans. Later I lost my dog and had to ask for help from people lounging in deckchairs.
A former PhD student of mine asked if I would support her over a difficult issue at work. I gladly agreed to help her avoid the sack, but without realising the extent of her problem. She just couldn’t behave politely in public.
The day that I joined her at work, she was called to the boss’ poky office to explain why she had been performing magic tricks in the dining room. Although his preferred technique of chastising her was a cuddle, I could still tell that he was very annoyed with her.
JB was alive and well in Birmingham. I admired her Fiat 500 and the way that the family had stuck four large cardboard head portraits of themselves across the car’s dashboard.
JB complained that she looked very wrinkled in her picture, and I had to admit (silently) that she looked a lot older than me.
‘But at least you’re no longer dead’, I said cheerily as I gave her a big hug.
I signed up for a scheme entitled ‘Read an article a day’. Under sufferance, Belle agreed to ensure that I kept to the regime.
Before I saw the table setting, I had already decided the colours of my mother-in-law’s bouquet: pale greens and yellows, with a splash of white. What a coincidence that SLHG had laid out green grapes on pale green Lalique glass plates for breakfast.
Around the table, all three of my sisters-in-law discussed birthday present suggestions for their mother. ‘No more trinkets!’ I interjected.
It looked like I would be ignored – as I was when I told SJMcC that we knew that she had taken up smoking in secret, and that it was high time that she stopped.
I had stripped down to my underwear in the charity shop, but the staff couldn’t care less – presumably because I was their best customer. However, it was getting late, and at 9pm TPR was anxious that we might miss the 9:30pm bus south. I shooed him away and said that I would soon catch up with him at the bus station.
By 9:15pm I was dressed again and heading down the street. My only guarantee on reaching TPR on time would be to hop onto a passing bus or hail a taxi, but no such vehicle passed me.
Then I remembered that I had my bike! As I climbed up the single track roads into the sunny Pentland Hills and enjoyed the scenery, I completely forgot our rendezvous at the bus station.
Dreamaticus 