I was ashamed that I hadn’t finished reading the book that I had selected for our monthly meeting. However, and to my surprise, EH had not only reached the final page, but also enjoyed the story.
She urged me to continue with Dear Olivia to learn more about the history of Italians in Edinburgh.
Every time that we returned to our house there was further evidence of attempted break-ins. We knew that it was only a matter of time before we would come home to a crime scene.
The day finally arrived when we found smashed glass on the ground outside our front door. The burglars had climbed up to the roof and broken in through an attic window to steal our bikes (but nothing else – not even a wad of £50 notes).
We assumed that they had left by the time that we returned home, but a fat middle-aged man holding a baby confronted me as I stepped inside. He announced himself as ‘Mr Almond’ and explained that he needed to avenge an insult that I had levelled at him in the 1980s.
I feared for my life as he lunged at me, while his dark-haired accomplice – in the same green spotty dress and black hat that I wore to W and R’s wedding in 1988 – looked on.
SL designed a new online trading app. Like all other similar tools (e.g. eBay), you could use it to buy and sell goods (obviously). Its USP, however, was its extremely witty on-screen instructions.
The first time that I used it I almost choked to death laughing.
I chose a new swimming costume. It was navy blue with white side panels, and leg pieces. It would be perfect for British waters, and could easily be worn under a wetsuit.
While I was trying it on for the first time I complained to my youngest sister-in-law about her mother’s tattoos. Even though they were somewhat disguised by her bruised arms, I still considered them a complete disgrace.
Not long after I had accidentally broken a dozen eggs in a box, I spotted BEX cleaning out the chickens.
He called me over to request a meeting. I said that I would see him later, but I was lying.
I broke into H and RJ’s house (while they were on holiday) and used the bathroom. I thought that I had got away with this until I saw their sports car coming up the drive. R was leaning out of the driver’s window, smoking a cigarette.
As soon as H spotted me, she bundled me out of the house. It was imperative that RJ did not see me.
Mission accomplished, H put on her pale blue wetsuit and climbed into a bottle of red wine. We were both now ready to set off on our journey to reunite with SL.
While TNX played Lord of the Manor, watching all the comings and goings on his ‘estate’, his wife QNX seemed a little subdued. At first I thought this might be because we guests had over-stayed our welcome (and that I really could have polished my shoes elsewhere).
However, she eventually confessed that she wasn’t really in the mood to host visitors, especially not since the diagnosis that she had kept secret from us up to that point.
‘Oh no, not another one’ I muttered under my breath.
TPR and I resumed our places in the back of the smart black car for another road trip south – only this time I sat on the right behind the passenger seat, and TPR took position on the left behind the driver.
At our first stop two blonde women in their forties approached me to renew our acquaintance and ask for game recommendations. I did not recognise them until the older of the pair explained that we had previously met on holiday and introduced them to Balderdash.
Following this encounter she had given the game to her son and daughter-in-law. She now sought advice on a follow-up present. I gave just one word in response: Catan.
EH sat at the far end of the sofa, watching me as I cut out shapes from unused Christmas cards to make some cards of my own.
‘What is the point of doing that?’ she asked.
‘I like to make my own Christmas cards’, I replied. ‘We used to make them from scratch, but this saves time’. As I uttered these words, however, I realised that EH had a point. Why not just write and send the cards that I had bought?
Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of members of TPR’s family. They were visiting to celebrate our wedding anniversary. I noticed that FS had grown a lot since of last get-together and was now an almost-teenager.
Then through the window I saw some university pals walk up the garden path. I panicked.
‘Sorry everyone’, I apologised. I need to go and get dressed. I can’t allow GG to see me in this state.
The beautiful woodcut scenes of deer in the forest, carved on to the back of the cloakroom door and sprayed gold, had been carved by my little sister.
I wondered whether she would be willing to create something similar for my house.
Dreamaticus 