Having called his mother to take any grocery orders, John was relieved to hear that those lovely people from the church group had delivered yesterday, so she only needed cat food and washing up liquid.
"Ah. Isn't it lovely that people are taking care of each other out there?" I said. "You know John, perhaps some sort of career in social care would suit me."
"Phwah!" he scoffed.
"What's so funny?"
"Well ….. you don't get to turn up in high heels and a pencil skirt to jobs like that, you know Daisy."
"Well, perhaps I'm ready for a change from all that.... superficial stuff."
"Face it - you're not good with the whole caring thing, Daisy."
"I beg your …."
"Daisy, you and I both know that you practically had to use barbeque tongs to change Cleo's nappies when she was a baby. Right …… wish me luck!" he exclaimed, like a man going to the battlefield.
"Oh, John!" I called after him. "We're ok for tinned chickpeas and poussins!"
It was several hours later that I received a text from John, telling me that he was outside in the driveway and that I should meet him at the back door with a packet of wipes at the ready. I left the twins to their colouring in (we were getting quite desperate in the schoolwork department now that it was officially the Easter holidays) and was greeted by what I can only describe as a broken man. His hair was sticking out at right-angles and his face was drawn.
"My God, Daisy!" he gasped. He proceeded to hurriedly pass items to me. This time, in fairness, most of the items were edible and he'd managed to get pretty much all of the essentials. All in fact, except …..
"John! John!" I called, scanning the inside of the fridge. "Where's the milk?"
"Shit! It's in the car! Hang on!" I heard him shout from the doorway.
At that point, Molly distracted me with a shriek of "Dennis! Deniiiiis!" This meant that either the cat had licked or stolen some food item, or that he had hold of a poor, unsuspecting creature. It was the latter - a huge magpie that was giving as good as it got, out on the patio. By the time that was dealt with (me screeching like a banshee at the cat until he gave up wrestling with the bird) John was already standing in the middle of the kitchen in his underpants, with two four pint cartons on the counter in front of him. "Give those a wipe over, Dais."
"I've never wanted you more," I muttered.
"What's that?"
"Did you manage to get the stuff to your mother?"
"Christ no, Daisy! It's taken me bloody hours to get that lot. She said it's not urgent anyway. I'm going for a lie down. Call me when it's time for dinner."
It felt good to be reasonably well stocked up again, though a few of John's selections were questionable. He told me that he'd bought dried semolina as there was no rice and pilchards in tomato sauce as he couldn't find any tinned tuna. There is always tuna! No matter what's going on in the world, there is always tuna!
For dinner, I cooked some lovely salmon fillets and a veggie burger for Cleo. We all sat around the dining room table in good spirits. "Shall I crack open a bottle?" John asked, with a wink.
The sound of the doorbell stopped us all in our tracks.
"Who on earth could that be?" I asked.
"Ok. Everybody stay calm," John said, slowly getting up and backing out of the room. "Don't move. Stay here in this room."
I followed him out of the kitchen and hovered in the doorway, so that I could see the front door. "Stay back!" he instructed me.
At first, I only heard his voice, as he was clearly standing well back in the driveway. It was a deep and serious voice, unfamiliar to me.
"Evening Sir," the voice said. "I wonder if I could ask you a few questions regarding an incident that allegedly took place on your property earlier today."
"Pardon? Is there a problem, Officer?"
It was then that the man stepped into view. A uniformed police officer. He was about our age, perhaps a bit older, moustached and surly-looking. "Neighbours have reported an incident of indecent exposure. A man running around in full view of the street, unclothed. Do you know anything about that, Sir?"
"A man, you say?"
"A man fitting your description, Sir."
I gasped.
"Ah," said John, lowering his voice and edging a little closer to the police officer. "Let me explain, Officer ………"
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