It is a much happier day, marred only by the occasional recollection of the dressing gowns sitting wetly in the washing machine at home.
The sun is shining, in that forbidding northern way that makes you feel that you might be a very tiny creature under the bright yellow eye of a merciless predator, and I am having a little anxious flap because we are going a different way home.
We are heading through Aberdeen and not over the mountains.
Mark says that this will be fine and I am trying not to be concerned about it but it is all just a bit different.
It will be nice anyway because we are going to call in and see the Peppers on our way past Dundee, which is where they live now. We do not usually go past Dundee. This is the Different Road that is so unpredictable.
We can do this because after all of the anxiety and panic and dashing about, when Mark spoke to Ted this morning, Ted said not to bother coming in to work until Friday. This means that we have a completely unexpected day off, and no need to hurry after all. In fact we have had no need to hurry for the last two days.
I thought uncharitable thoughts about Ted, but they were quickly washed away by the happiness of not needing to rush back.
In fact it meant that we could have a completely unexpected shirk. We were parked in the woods when we woke up this morning, and instead of rushing into school, we took the dogs and strolled off through the dappled morning sunlight. We sat in a sunny glade and reassured Oliver that all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well, in regard to his GCSE exams, that is. Which of course it will be.
By the time we see him again the examination season will have started, and he will be casting his die.
After that we headed to school. The security man recognised the camper, which was good, because it would not be the first time that school security has told us that the fairground is in the opposite direction. Then we hauled Oliver’s luggage down and dragged it into his room.
He has got a nice room this term, a bit smaller than last term, but with a wide window overlooking the lawn. Mark went to give his bike a quick service whilst Oliver and I unpacked.
He is very, very tidy and ordered. Everything has to be carefully laid in just the right places, which I admired immensely. Also he has been at boarding school for a long time and was untroubled by problems like deficiencies of coat hangers and a wobbly chair, the remedy for which turned out to be by raiding the still uninhabited rooms of late arrivals. I reached a new understanding of why he always prefers to be at school first.
Oh dear, it was sad to say goodbye, and I worried about him all the way down the school drive, so Mark stopped at the beach and suggested we had a calming walk, which was when we had the inspiration of visiting the Peppers.
We walked on the beach anyway, and I paddled, which was truly icy, I mean really icy, the sort of cold where your feet hurt a lot for the first couple of minutes, and then become white and numb.
I don’t know why this is lovely, but it is, and never ceases to make me rediscover joy in the world, maybe when all the blood retreats from your feet your brain warms up a bit.
LATER NOTE: It is now the very middle of the night, and it has been the nicest of evenings, because we did go and see the Peppers, and they had made us a splendid dinner.
We were absolutely overwhelmed by this unexpected kindness. We drank wine and talked, and Roger Poopy was utterly beside himself with the joy of meeting Pepper. I mean truly beside himself. He wagged and trembled and sucked her fur and charged about and made some amorous advances and then lay next to her and whimpered. Even his father, who is a truly miserable old gidget, likes the Peppers, and wagged his tail courteously. He growls at absolutely everybody else, especially children or people who try to stroke him, so this is a great compliment.
Of course we had a good look around their new house, which is beautifully modern and spacious, clean lines and good taste, and we admired it very much.
I could have talked all night, but by midnight we were all yawning, so we took the dogs for a walk around the graveyard before collapsing into bed.
I am in bed now, somewhere in Dundee, and Mark has just finished in the shower.
It is time to sleep.
