"Why don't you just go out into the garden?" John asked, finding me watching the kids frolicking around in the paddling pool, through the glass of the patio windows.
"What if Margaret or Gordon are out there? I don't know what I'd say to them, John."
"Well, you can't stay cooped up in here forever. It's really hot out there. Mid 20s apparently."
Marcus and Molly were playing really nicely together (for once) and Cleo was reading on the deck, cat on knees. I could dash out with my coffee right now and be on that sunbed next to her, within five seconds.
"To be honest, I could do with half an hour's peace and quiet, to answer a few work emails that have just come in," he said. "Go on. You know you want to, and this weather's not meant to last."
"Ok. I'll make a dash for it. I feel like I'm in hiding in my own bloody house."
"Sorry."
It was unbelievably hot out on the decking - proper summer weather. With the heat on my skin and the gentle sounds of birdsong and children's laughter, I felt myself starting to drift off within minutes. I must have fallen asleep for a spell, as I had no recollection of the moment when the ripples of laughter changed to a belting chorus of "MUUUUUUM!"
Bloody ball!
"Why did you have to get the ball out? Why didn't you just stay in the paddling pool?" I moaned. "Where is it?"
"In the bush next door again," Marcus said.
Great! How was I going to get the bloody ball and bypass the neighbours?
Too late! Margaret was already coming out of the house, wiping her hands on her floral apron. Time to bite the bullet. "Sorry, Margaret!" I called. "The ball's in your bush again."
She gave a little smile and a nod. "I'll just get it for you."
"How's Gordon?" I asked cautiously, as she approached with the kids' football.
She fixed me with what was quite a stern look, as she deposited the ball into our garden. Who'd have known that the mild-mannered Margaret could make me feel so uneasy? "Well Daisy ……. to be perfectly honest, he's not too good. His ankle has swollen up quite badly and it's making it painful for him to drive."
"Because of the …… because of John?"
Margaret pursed her lips together and gave a tiny nod.
"Oh Margaret, I'm so sorry," I said. "I don't know what to say ….. "
"We're struggling to deliver all of the food parcels now and we've got a lot of people in the community depending on us."
"I feel awful, Margaret."
"Gordon can't do as much as usual at the moment and Mrs White, a few doors down, who normally helps out, is incapacitated after an incident with a pair of cockapoos on Rendell Road."
"Who'd have known that delivering food parcels to the elderly could be so hazardous?" I said.
It was after dinner that I broached the subject with John. I'd bought a nice bottle of Pinot in Tesco yesterday, so I poured him a glass as he watched the News.
"Ooh. Thank you, Dais," he said. "I was just thinking that I fancied a glass. I'll unload the dishwasher when it's done, if you fancy a nice soak."
"No worries," I said. "I'll sort it. You just relax for a bit. It looked like you did quite a bit of work today." I turned and walked to the door.
"Well, just enough to keep things ticking over before we can properly get to work on the project, you know."
Before leaving the room, I stopped and said, "Oh, John ……. I forgot to mention …… I was talking to Margaret earlier."
"That's great, Daisy. See. I knew that she'd be ok with you." He took a big swig of wine and visibly relaxed into the cushions of the sofa.
"Yeah. She told me that since …… the incident, that Gordon has a problem with his ankle, so ….. I …… um …….. I told her that you'd help out with food deliveries for the time being."
Exit.
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