We are going to set off very soon and I am just taking a few minutes to write to you whilst Mark is having his shower.
I have got a few minutes even after he has finished his shower, because he has just remembered at the very last minute that we have left the spare wheel in the trailer at the farm, and he is going to rush across and get it. This is a nuisance but I am very glad indeed that he has remembered. That could have been the most terrible disaster followed by an awful domestic disagreement, which could easily have resulted in violence even with a police officer present.
Our police officer is upstairs in her bedroom. I do not know if she is ready to go. I have told her that she should go and get a shower, but I do not think that she has. She has been supposed to be writing her dissertation all day, but I expect really she has been watching teenage YouTubers talking about hair and makeup and the hidden meanings in the writings of Nietzsche.
I did not mean the last bit. Probably it will just be hair and make up. I am not going to look because she will only have to click off it and pretend that she is thinking about the impact of a dysfunctional upbringing on a criminal outcome, or some such fashionable speculation. Whatever it is I do not think that she has written it.
I have got no room to talk because I only have to write three hundred and fifty words for my assignment, and Once Upon A Time is only four, so I have got another three hundred and forty six to go. I keep meaning to start writing things, and thinking of things that might have happened Once Upon A Time, but I keep getting stuck on There Were Three Bears, which is good, but probably won’t catch on so I shall have to think about it a bit more.
Lucy came home last night just as we were finishing work.
She is looking very well and cheerful.
We had a glass of wine whilst she told us all about the exciting events of being a policeman, and we told her about sitting on the taxi rank. Her stories took longer than ours, and made us marvel with fascinated horror at the dreadfulness of other people’s lives. She said that some people’s houses are so dirty that she will not go into them to take statements, but asks people to come and sit outside in the police car.
She said that this makes her feel better whenever she feels guilty because she has not dusted her flat or when she has to wash the pots up before she uses them rather than after.
I am going to cross Police Car Cleaner off my list of potential future careers. I am getting this nicely narrowed down now, sooner or later I expect I will find my niche in life.
I am very excited about going, and think I have remembered to do absolutely everything. I have cooked lots of things and packed our clean clothes and watered the conservatory and done lots and lots of washing. This is so we will come home to find everything beautifully clean, and feel pleased with our pristine little domestic haven.
It is also because we will come home with a sack full of Oliver’s washing and I do not want to have to choose between clean sheets and sending him back to school with towels and socks that will make Matron frown.
I am going to go away. It is time to put everything in the camper van.
This time tomorrow we will have a boy and be a long, long way away.
How about Once Upon A Time, Far, Far, Away…
Maybe not.
