I thought that perhaps John had settled down a bit, but no; he was lingering near the window again this morning. Upon spotting that I was awake, he opened his mouth and I knew that his first word was gonna be ….
"Gordon .…."
"Why don't you just bloody marry him?"
"He's at it again. He's taking stuff into the house from his car. Loads of stuff."
"D'you know what John …… unless he's actually taking something out of the house, the size and shape of Margaret and rolled up in a carpet or a plastic sheet …..I don't want to fucking-well hear about it! We've exhausted all angles on this particular subject."
"Hmph," he said. "There's a cup of tea for you on your bedside cabinet."
"That's more like it. Now, let's start again. What day is it today?"
"Vyshali's texting. She can't get in. She said her link's not working," Karen said from her square of screen. "Why doesn't she get the kids to sort it out, for God's sake? What's the point in having kids if they don't do all your tech stuff for you? Why do you think I went into teaching?"
"Are you crazy? Vyshali's kids aren't gonna be up yet. It's only eleven."
"Hang on. I'll send her the password again. Anyway, I didn't manage to tell you about Dave's fungal infection yesterday."
"Kaz, I really don't want to know the ins and outs of Dave's feet."
"Who mentioned feet? He hasn't got it on his feet. I wish! Ah, here comes Sarah."
Thank God!
Sarah's username flashed up then disappeared. "Sarah? SARAH?"
"I keep telling you, Karen. There's no point shouting. She can't hear you unless she's on."
"Charlie's probably asked her to peel him a grape or whatever they do over there in Stepford."
"No doubt."
"I'm tempted to say something to her."
"Really? She is being a prize mug but ….. hang on, here comes Vyshali." Her square popped up, followed by the top of her head and a weird squeaky sound.
"Oh no! She's in dalek mode again," Karen said. "Go into your kitchen Vysh. Vysh! Remember ….. we worked out that you had better reception in there?"
Now the squeak was joined by a horrible scraping sound and her picture was wobbling. "Perhaps she's moving into the kitchen," I said. "Ah. Here's Sarah too! And I think ….. yep, we've got Vyshali."
We all exchanged the usual greetings and comparisons of our root regrowth. "Your hair's looking good actually, Daisy," Vyshali said. "It's a different colour from on the video."
"Ok. Can we all agree not to mention the video please? I think I'd rather talk about Dave's fungus," I said, only half joking.
"Maybe Dave's nether regions are best forgotten for now. Tell us about Charlie," Karen said, mischief twinkling in her eyes.
"He's lush. Lockdown with him has been ……" she looked dreamily off into the righthand corner of her square, as if searching for the appropriate word to sum up her ecstasy.
" ……. like being the mother of a toddler?" Karen interjected
"Karen!" I said.
"No Karen. I actually like looking after him and doing nice things for him. You have to nurture your relationships, girls. You can't just expect them to take care of themselves." I didn't know whether by 'them' she meant blokes or relationships and truth be told, I couldn't be arsed to ask her to clarify. She babbled on for a bit longer then added, "You could benefit from remembering that, Karen."
"What? I do nice things for Dave. Only yesterday I made him his favourite sandwich and even cut all the crusts off for him."
I saw Vyshali screwing up her face in confusion. "Did you really?"
"No." Karen laughed out loud. "Fuck off!"
It was at that point that I had to excuse myself as there was an inordinate amount of bumping going on directly up above me. I braced myself. What the hell had happened to upset Cleo now?
I didn't like the answer to that question: Callum was threatening to end it and it was MY fault! Well, not just my fault, John's too. According to Cleo, Callum couldn't deal with her mental family at the moment, as well as dealing with being confined with his own unreasonable parents. What annoyed me about it, was that it sounded to me like he'd given her an ultimatum. If we did one more thing ……
"Cleo, perhaps he's not the one for you, if he's going to say things like that. If he loved you, he'd accept your family no matter how …. mental your father was."
"Not just Dad. You didn't come across as particularly sane in that video, did you, Mum? AND can you please not give me advice on relationships. I hardly think that you're in a position to do that. You and Dad do nothing but bicker. Now please go away!"
"Oh. I see. Well come back to me on that when you've been with someone for twenty long, long years."
"What's for lunch by the way?" she had the nerve to call after me, as I skulked away.
"We're not that bad. I always thought we were kind of cool for parents," John said, when I passed on the highlights of my 'conversation' with Cleo.
"John, on two occasions now, you've gone charging to the bottom of the garden like a madman. Did you know that Callum's mother had to take him to A and E after he fell over our recycling?"
"Well, I've told you not to put it right next to the gate."
"That's hardly the issue, John. No, we need to calm down, give her some space and some …. trust. She's sixteen."
"Hmph. Exactly. When I was sixteen, I hid in the back of my cousin's camper van and was halfway to Biarritz before my parents realised I was gone. My parents were way too trusting. I'm not gonna make that mistake."
"Perhaps we're judging her by our own standards. From what I've heard, you had a pretty misspent youth. Teenagers are generally more savvy these days."
"Me? I wasn't the one who got thrown out of university in my first term."
"What's this?" For someone who could shout and slam so magnificiently, Cleo sure as hell could move about quietly when she wanted to.
"I think I'll ….. I'll put the baked potatoes in," I muttered, glaring at John for letting that one slip out.
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