Testing times

Lucy’s driving test is in the morning, and we are all exhausted from the excitement of it.

We all woke up early this morning, anxiety making us ridiculously sleepless. Mark and I had not gone to bed until five, but we were wide awake and in search of coffee by ten.

Once we were suitably twitching with caffeine, Mark and Lucy disappeared to practice manoeuvres and observations and mirror checks, and I had the house to myself.

I did not really have the house to myself, because Oliver and the dogs were there, but the dogs were busy chewing sticks into splintery nuisance all over the carpets, and Oliver was fully occupied with his challenging cyber-social life. I had a clean house, after yesterday’s efforts, and did not in the least feel like starting on anything newly adventurous, like painting the living room.

I had a day to spend in my office, doing nice things on the computer.

I held my breath for a moment, in case anything should happen to remind me that I mustn’t, but nothing did. Nothing reached out from any murky corner to grab my attention. Oliver was full of chocolate waffles, and the dogs had been emptied in the park. The dresser had been dusted and the bathroom bleached.

I made some tea and sat down hesitantly.

The first project was to investigate a local health club.

You might remember that this week I had a very happy swim and sauna at an hotel in Nottingham, and resolved to readdress the issues of my ghastly rubbery muscles once again. 

I had originally considered reapplying to the PamperMe Beautiful Loveliness Health Spa in the village, but had been put off by the extortionate joining fees, the twelve months’ minimum membership, and the fact that I think the new manager is an idiot. 

Then last night at work I picked up the manager of another gym and swimming pool from the next village.

This, by my extremely parochial standards, is a long way to go. It must be nearly five minutes drive away, and an almost impossible walk.

It is not quite as lovely, although they have recently installed atmospheric lighting.

They do not serve champagne, not that I could afford to drink it in our current state of financial embarrassment even if they did.

The manager had been drinking something, though, quite a lot, and thought that he probably loved me.

This is always a good opener.

I made some tentative swimming pool enquiries, and he was very pleased indeed.

It so happens that he is a fan of Number One Daughter. 

The prospect of having such a close connection, even a wobbly round one, to such an international sporting superstar, at his own personal health club, was very exciting. He had just, he said, gone on a course to learn how to instruct people in Cross Fit, and wasn’t she competing in the European Cross Fit Championships this weekend?

I thought that she probably was. 

He thought that this was splendid.

I assured him, untruthfully, that she visits often.

He wondered if I might like a free gym membership.

I thought that I might.

This morning I looked at his health club on the mighty Internet. 

It looks all right. I might do that.

I will keep you posted. 

After that I spent the day composing what I hoped would be fluid and elegant prose for a short story competition. 

The competition is only for people from the North, and so if my prose does turn out to be fluid and elegant it will probably be in with a good chance. 

I didn’t finish it in the end, because Mark and Lucy came home and it was time to go to work.

Lucy is in a bit of a state.

We assured her that there was no pressure, even though the whole of the rest of her life does depend on the outcome. If she fails then she might not be allowed to carry on with her application for the police’s apprenticeship scheme.  She will have to find something else to do.

It is her test in the morning. I do not think it would be possible to reassure her.

Mark says that she is doing very well, and all that she has to do is not be frightened.

I am so glad that I am grown up.

Have a picture of Mark.