John was on Neighbourhood Watch duty again this morning. "Come here, Daisy! Come and see this!"
"What's the matter? I'm trying to get the kids' breakfast sorted."
"Bloody Gordon! He's just put a big box in the car. What do you think's in it?"
"Perhaps he's smuggling pasta out of the house, before we raid their kitchen. Margaret did look rattled when I asked for some."
"I bet she did. I wish I had binoculars."
"Come away from the window, John. I don't know what you find so fascinating about that man, anyway. You're developing some sort of weird obsession, if you ask me. Come and get some toast."
He reluctantly came away, muttering, "He's up to something. I'm telling you, Daisy."
The kids were an absolute bloody nightmare today. I think we'd got to that point where the novelty of being off school and at home had worn off and here we were, faced with the prospect of another three weeks of Lockdown, at least!
It began, as it always did, with Mr Braithwaite's impossible bloody equations. They were like the kiss of death to any chance of domestic harmony. As usual, they put everyone in a bad mood (especially John). We eventually gave up on them and moved onto the next task that Mr Braithwaite had set. He wanted them to do a painting, which I thought would be a lovely task to ease the tension. How wrong was I? While reaching for her Ribena, Molly knocked a pot of water over Marcus's masterpiece so he retaliated by painting a big black line through hers. Just when the hysterics had reached fever pitch, Cleo came storming into the kitchen, shouting, "My stupid phone won't charge properly! I told you I needed a new one WEEKS AGO!"
"That's it John, I've reached the end of my tether with all of this ," I said, finding him upstairs in the bedroom. "John! John! Come away from the window, John!"
"What's the problem?"
"What's the problem? Open your ears, John. The kids are recreating 'Lord of the Flies' in the kitchen. I think they need to get out of the house."
"Good idea. Give them an hour in the garden to blow off some steam."
"No John. Out-Out. I mean we should take them somewhere. Maybe on a nice long walk."
"Have you …."
"Gone mad? Taken leave of my senses? Probably John, but I think if we take them somewhere nice and quiet, like into a forest or up a mountain or something ….."
"Up a mountain?"
"Well, put it this way - tomorrow, I'm gonna take the kids out. You're quite welcome to come or to stay here by yourself."
To my amazement, he said, "Ok, but we're gonna go early. Before many people are around."
"Ok. If it makes you feel better, we'll go first thing. Lovely. I'll tell the kids."
It was like Olivia had a radar for the slightest glimmer of joy or hope in my life, and when she picked up a signal, she was compelled to send me a stupid fucking email:
Hi Daisy,
Great news! Victoria received your report and was impressed! She's given me the go-ahead to make plans for the launch so I've charged you with the exciting job of finding a venue for the end of May!!! Speak later in the week?
Olivia xxx
First of all: why so many exclamation marks??? Second of all: when is someone gonna tell her that the whole country is locked- down???
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