Adults behaving like children, honestly!

Monday June 23^rd

Phewee Musky. First Day with both of us at work together. Interesting to say the least.

We worked through lunchtime (that is our plan for the whole month) so that we could leave at 4.30pm and have a relaxing time before Laura went off to Dominic’s, waitressing. She has decided that she wants to do both jobs until we fly out to Australia to earn even more dosh. She is a bit obsessed with paying her way and not running up a huge amount of debt while she does her degree. Not being willing to compromise on this, I have just sat back and let her do what she wants. The amount of tips she gets in a week adds up to quite a tidy little sum, which is off the books and therefore tax free (not that she earns enough to pay tax anyway). It usually more than doubles the money she gets paid by Dom.

This plan seems to have worked tonight. She waltzed off bright and breezy down the hill with the promise of me coming down to collect her at the end of the evening in the car. I sat and began to read my way through all my Sarah Paretsky novels during this month’s empty evenings. I have all except the latest one, which isn’t out in paperback yet. I can sort of picture myself as Victoria Iphigenia Warshawski, she is feisty and independent and often ends up in trouble by letting herself getting involved in stuff she shouldn’t, or by letting her mouth run away with her.

I managed a third of the first novel this evening before I zoomed off in the car to collect her from work. I didn’t stop for a chat with Dom, as I sometimes do, because we can end up staying another hour there just chewing the fat.

Our animal passion over the weekend hasn’t been extinguished although we are being more restrained than we were. We obviously made love before we slept but nothing extreme or unusual.

Tuesday June 24^th

We went down to the pool as normal, after Callie’s dog walk, and did our 100 lengths in roughly the same time as we normally take. I did wonder if by the end of the week we’d be as bright eyed and bushy tailed as we were today.

Sarah, who was back at her desk, was cheerful when we saw her and teased Laura about how I had been pining for her to return from Cumbria. She appeared to be surprised but she knew how much I had missed her during those nine days. It wasn’t a nine day’s wonder; it was nine days of woe!

We arrived at work about half an hour early in order to give ourselves a 30 minute lunch break as yesterday’s abstinence wasn’t good for our appetites. It still means we can zoom off at 4.30 though. I do love the flexibility we get with our hours at work. I expect it is quite uncommon for the majority of us to be allowed to fit our hours in during the times that the offices are open. I wonder if it causes resentment in the people who can’t be flexible with their working practice in the company?

As usual we departed on time and had a leisurely, if somewhat earlier evening meal. I drove Laura down to Dominic’s and, as the evening was lovely, I took Callie up to Rocher Edge and we strolled in the less frequented area of the Peak District for a couple of hours. I didn’t meet another soul on my walk although I did see several parked cars at the end of Duke’s Road (which leads up to Derwent Edge).

We’d arranged that I would walk down and collect Laura this evening and we’d walk through Coumes Brook wood back up to our house. It would mean that I didn’t need to take Callie out for her last walk. We encountered a gang of youths in the wood behind the doctor’s surgery, which was a little intimidating at first but Callie barked at them when she saw them (I had her on the lead and I think they’d startled her). They ran up the valley towards the small dam, screaming and screeching like a set of kindergarten girls! We branched off up the new steps long before the dam wall loomed into view and came out half way up our lane. It seems a lot easier going that way home but I don’t fancy the idea of running the gauntlet of unknown youths to take that route more often. If I was alone and without Callie I definitely wouldn’t go that way.

Mmmm…. Me as V.I. Warshawski? Obviously not. Although she is fictional and is usually armed with a Smith & Wesson .38!

We shared a shower before retiring a nice way to get clean and be dirty at the same time.

Wednesday June 26^th.

The swimming this morning was a bit different, there seemed to be far more people than usual. Sarah explained that there had been a promotion in yesterday’s local papers (both the morning and evening ones) which gave new customers a special deal if they attended four session or early swimming in the next fortnight. I asked her jokingly if we were eligible and she told us we definitely were but as we had already had season passes it seemed a bit pointless. She did say that was the only thing which the Centre manager was concerned about, how to reconcile the season pass holders. They have come up with a deal where we get a card stamped with the dates we attended during the promotion and those will be added on when our pass runs out before buying a new one. I thought that sounded rather too sensible to be a council decision. It really is!

Work de bonne heure again. I am not quite sure what Laura is doing in reprographics but she certainly seems to be kept busy and today she arrived in Archives for lunch absolutely covered in gruft. I lent her my lab coat for the afternoon but the damage was already done. She was a bit distressed that her gorgeous lilac sweater had got so messed up but I have some wonder woollen washing solution at home which I promised would clean it up without damaging it. The offending article is drying on the wooden airer in the cellar as I type.

The afternoon was interesting as Christopher came down to Archives claiming to just have hallucinated. I asked him what the heck he was talking about and he told me he thought he’d seen Laura. I explained that his eyes weren’t faulty and then gave him the lowdown on what she was doing here. He was incredulous about one thing, “You’re going to Australia, again!?”

I had to remind him I was half Australian and I missed my sister. He thought I must be getting paid too much. I told him he was an idiot. I said he’d better head back up to accounts or he might start hallucinating being whacked round the back of the head by an archivist wielding an ancient tome. He said I wouldn’t dare. So I dared!

He tried to grab the book and we ended in an undignified struggle - cum tug-of-war with it. He managed to wrench it from my grasp by twisting it round like a steering wheel and then once he’d got it, he simply handed it back to me. As I clutched it to my bosom ready to protect it with my life he leaned over, kissed me on the cheek and vanished back up to Accounts.

Why are men so stupid about stuff? Luckily there was only one other member of ARR in the room at the time and she had her back to us as we were behaving like children, so I don’t think she saw what he’d done. About a minute after I had sat down I got a text from the aforementioned accountant with the word “SORRY” in capital letters. I sent back, “You Will Be!” I left it at that.

I told all to Laura when she appeared at 4.30 ready to head for the hills and as I did so Ann piped up (she was the other person in the room), “They were behaving like a pair of kids. Vic whacked him with her book and then they had a wrestling match with it. He somehow grabbed it from her and I thought he was going to whack her with it but he sort of stopped, looked sheepish and handed it back to her. It’s a good job Briggers wan’t in the room she wouldn’t have been amused.”

I thought to myself if Briggers had been in the room we wouldn’t have done it in the first place but I kept schtum. I showed Laura the text and my reply and she said I should forget it. He was just being his typical silly self. I am so pleased she knows all about Christopher and his puppyish lovesickness. It makes dealing with him a whole lot easier.

We had another leisurely meal and this time I walked down to Dom’s with my girl. I went home the same way we’d gone last night but there was no sign of the teenagers. I suppose it was way too early for them to be lurking. I was all set to be a rufty tufty fearless girl and there was no-one to be rufty tufty against. Ah well.

Thursday June 26^th.

It really has been a bit of a non-week so far. I suppose the routine of work just takes over your lives and you switch into auto-pilot. That is how it has seemed so far.

The special offer had the pool just as full this morning as yesterday, more’s the pity. We still splashed about for our 100 lengths each and then wound our way westwards for breakfast and to get ready for work.

The sweater had cleaned up really well and before we drove off I also found out my number 2 lab coat for Laura to take and put either in her locker or leave in mine. Once again we departed to our respective departments and worked as diligently as we could (well, I know I did and I am sure Laura’s work ethic is similar to mine) until lunchtime. We scoffed our sangers in the Archives Department and had a bet on whether I would see Christopher again this afternoon. (I bet he wouldn’t appear – and I won!)

Back home, at just before five, I discovered I had mis-set the oven timer and our meat wasn’t cooked. We decided that we’d get a Chinese from the village (it opens at 5pm) and we’d eat the steamed chicken tomorrow instead. We had chicken from the Chinese which could be considered a bit foolish but it extremely tasty and quick.

Laura walked to the restaurant and I continued my book, getting well over half way through it before whizzing down, en voiture, to collect her from work. She declined the walk with Callie and me saying she felt a bit tired and she’d be waiting with a surprise instead.

My surprise was to find a fast asleep young mathematician, holding a black and gold sex toy. I gently took it from her grasp and put it on my bedside table. I decided I would use it to wake her in the morning, which would be an even more unexpected surprise! Obviously my Friday morning’s wakeup call will be in the next blog entry!

Intimate explorations on our reunion.

Friday June 20^th.

OMG I was like a child waiting for Christmas today. I just couldn’t wait for lunchtime to arrive soon enough. When it did I zoomed home and picked up Callie and we shot off, breaking the world land speed record, to Dad’s house. When we arrived I found a certain Miss Thomas sitting on the garden bench by the front door, she told me she had worked out roughly how long it would take me to get up from Oughtibridge and had been sitting on the bench for just 9 minutes, (Mathematicians, eh?) She also said that as Dad and Louisa weren’t in she wasn’t sure about letting herself in and waiting in my bed or staying out here. She had decided on the latter out of reluctance to enter someone else’s house.

She lifted up her skirt and said, “This is waiting for you!” She had no undies on underneath and I didn’t  need any further encouragement. We didn’t make it to my bedroom before we had found each other’s love bumps! After an orgasm or two on the lounge sofa we retired to my room where we could use other items to bring us pleasure as well as tongues and fingers.

By about five o’clock I was sure I couldn’t walk but after a shower, together, we found there was only a slight tingling down below. We dressed and waited decorously for the Aged Parent and Louisa to arrive. They rolled in at about 6.30 and were surprised and delighted to find their evening meal waiting for them. I had raided the fridge and found masses of bacon almost at its best by date so I cooked up a huge pot of fasta pasta. There were still some apple pies in the freezer so I defrosted one of those and reheated that too.

After tea Dad decided we ought to go down to Allonby beach for a post prandial stroll, so we piled four people and four dogs into his huge Citroen and drove down to Dubmill Point. The tide was at its lowest ebb and the whole array of wooden structures out in the Solway were visible, so I persuaded Dad to go there and we could stroll among them away from the evening hordes at Allonby itself. Sure enough there were hordes at Allonby but Dubmill was deserted, apart from two fishermen and a young couple who kept stopping and snogging after about five steps. By young I do mean young, they couldn’t have been older than 14 or 15!

The dogs loved chasing about after the wanged ball and after each other. We had a good old potter about around the post in our walking in water shoes, to save out feet from being bitten by sharp rocks or broken shells. We tried various hypotheses to explain the existence of the structures but their distance from the shore meant that we couldn’t actually arrive at any logical conclusions. I think they may have been put their for Haff netting (spelling may be wrong) a fishing technique used along the Solway for years and years, but TBH, that was only a guess. The plan was to look it up on the web when we got home but a detour to the Bush Inn meant that all ideas of surfing the net went out of the window.

We stayed in the pub until about midnight and Laura came and stayed at my house as she always does. We would collect her suitcase and stuff in the morning from her Mum & Dad’s. She has a few clothes in my room anyway if needed. At the pub, she took me completely by surprise when, on returning from the loo together, she whispered in my ear, “I’ve removed my knickers. Put your fingers inside me!” It is quite difficult, in a crowded pub, to secretly insert a digit into your girlfriend’s vagina without drawing attention to what you are doing. We managed it after a while. My only worry was we would end up leaving two wet patches on the upholstery. Laura was in flood with my fingers dancing away in her and I was no drier with arousal next to her!

We continued our intimate explorations on the seat at the top of Tallentire Hill when we took the dogs out for their final walk of the day. I think if the sex is this intense after being apart for a while we ought to do it more often. I told Laura this in between gasps and she said she couldn’t be apart that long again, she had missed me so much. We had told each other this all night. I guess it was obvious.  

Saturday June 21^st.

Another glorious day to match last night’s typically un-Cumbrian weather. We decided we had better not over indulge our passion too much today or people might start to suspect and / or get angry. We were much more circumspect.

We went into Cockermouth and walked Callie through Harris Park, then we trooped down the river to the Market Place to see what an utter mess they are making of this side of the town. Previously I thought all the drainage work was finished, it seems they have just moved the chaos along High Street to the east of Station Street. And what a bodge they appear to be making!

We had a scout round Linden Tree and a couple of other shops of note before taking the mutt along the Derwent for a proper swim under the castle walls. There is a great bathing spot for dogs and humans just there. I suggested that we go wild water swimming on Sunday if the weather was good again. Once more I was stunned to discover that Laura has done hardly any lake swimming! How could she live here all her life and not find out the swimming holes in the rivers? I am always amazed when she drops a bomb shell like this. It seems to be typical of most locals, they never seem to use the national parks much at all.

Callie went swimming in the Derwent for ages until she unsighted the ball and we lost it as it floated off downstream, so we brought her back into the bank. As we walked back towards the footbridge an eagle eyed Laura spotted Callie’s ball in the reeds at the edge so we sent out Callie to fetch the ball and then set her to retrieving it along the riverside gardens instead of in the river so we didn’t lose it again. Guess what? We lost the damn thing again!

We strolled back through town, along the old railway line back into Harris Park and then headed for Dad’s again. He and Louisa were out when we got back so we called round to Laura’s house (Mum & Dad’s) and had a long gossipy, giggly afternoon with Molly and then with Avril (Laura’s older sister) who came round – just on a whim I think. We stayed for most of the afternoon and then I got a text from Dad asking if we wanted tea. He had got some steak ready and was just about to start cooking. We didn’t think twice but shot off over to Dad’s to stop him cooking my steak too much. He knows I like it blue but insists on cooking it far too long for my liking. Luckily he hadn’t got round to my piece yet, that’s what I told him, so he let me take over the grill and cook it just to my liking.

Instead of Hilmar’s red we had some delicious Tempranillo, with our meal. It was a label I didn’t recognise Dad invited me to guess where it came from and when I couldn’t he told me it was from Aldi and was a cheap as chips. (I have no idea where he got that ghastly expression from!) I was really surprised, this was a brilliant Tempranillo but it only cost about three quid! We shall have to track down our nearest Aldi to go and buy some! It was so good we drank the lot inside twenty minutes, Dad wasn’t undaunted though, he had bought a case (that’s a twelve case, not a German case). By the time the evening was over we had polished off six bottles and I was very, very drunk – although technically that wasn’t the wine, it was Dad slipping me a glass (or four) of single malt whisky after the wine had gone.

When drunk I used to get very frisky sexually but I sort of had it in the back of my mind I mustn’t get frisky with Dad around, he would not be amused. I whispered to Laura, “Let’s sneak off up to my room and fuck ourselves silly.” It was only in the morning I realised with horrible, sickening comprehension what Dad had said as we made our excuse to leave: “You are already pretty silly….”

OMG! Laura told me, when I was in a fit state to understand what she was telling me, that my whisper had been more like a bellow! Double OMG. I asked what Louisa’s reaction had been and apparently she had just burst out laughing.

Sunday June 22^nd.

I sat up in bed when Laura said I had bellowed my whisper and said, “You’re joking!” She assured me she wasn’t. Oh Jesus H fucking Christ! I lay back and wondered how the hell I could redeem the situation. I asked Laura what Dad’s reaction had been. She said that she believed he’d thought it funny too, as his closing comment must have indicated. I asked her what should I do and she advised me to… “do nothing. Pretend it never happened. He’ll probably have forgotten by now anyway, you were both pretty far gone before the whisky.”

I went downstairs to let Callie and the dogs out while Laura showered. When they had performed I bumped into Dad coming down to let his dogs out, I told him it was OK they had just gone out and would be fine until after their breakfast.  He asked me how much of last night I remembered. I tentatively asked, “…erm, Why? Did I do something stupid?”

“No, no. You just seemed to have lost your volume control, that’s all. Oh, and it’s OK I walked all the dogs for their final walk of the night.”

“Oh Bugger. I am sorry Dad. I was just so tired I wanted to get up stairs and get my head down.”

Had I pushed it too far? There was no hint of a smile, not a flicker, not even the ghost of a crease at the corners of his mouth. He is bloody good when he wants to be.

I asked if he and Louisa would fancy going lake swimming with us this afternoon. He agreed that it might be fun but we’d need our wetsuits as the lake water was still pretty chilly and a swimmer had died in the Great North Swim last weekend at Windermere. I asked if it was from hypothermia but he didn’t know.

After breakfast the Lollster and I went with the dogs down to Maryport Prom and she went into a fit of giggles when I replayed the conversation in the kitchen this morning, especially the bit where I told Dad I had wanted to get upstairs and get my head down. She was sure he must know that I knew. I told her that he did know that I knew but he wasn’t going to let on to me that he knew that I knew he knew! She hit me! A swipe across the shoulder. I did deserve it.

Maryport prom is fast turning into Poo Alley, the amount of dog shite that was left to fester. Why can’t the people of Maryport clean up after their bloody dogs? Is it un-macho to scoop the poop? Are they just lazy gits? We watched one old guy let his dog lay an enormous cable on the concrete and just leave it. I was incensed. I went up and gave him one of my poo bags telling him you might want to use this. He gave me such a mouthful of invective and abuse I attempted to pick up the poo in my bag and throw it at him. Laura had to stop me doing the latter after I had done the former. Pity. Bloody pity!

We arrived at Crummockwater where everyone and their Dads had had the self-same idea that we had. We found a spot to park near the Buttermere end of the lake, where there are a handful of small islands and the National Trust hire out rowing boats. We had already changed into our wetsuits before leaving the village to save any embarrassing and revealing contortionism on the shore. Dad was right the water was bloody freezing. If my wetsuit hadn’t been so thick I guess my nipples would have poked out like small mountains. We had a splash about in the shallower bit and Dad lugged the two kayaks from the roof rack down to the water’s edge, about 50 yards from the car.

I leapt into one and without a spray deck paddled out on to the lake and round the first of the islands. I pulled back the shore and then Dad and I had a race over the same route, he won naturally so as we drew near to the shore I grabbed the tail of his kayak and flipped it! His curse was swallowed by the lake water but he soon reappeared, swam over to my kayak and flipped that too. Louisa shouted something like, “Stop messing about you two and act your ages!” Dad shouted back “OK!” and then bloody ducked me before swimming to his boat and tugging it back to land.

I did the same and we emptied the water from them before allowing Laura and Louisa to have a go. They deigned not to race but paddled in a leisurely and stately way round the island. Dad swam out to meet Louisa’s kayak and pretended to grab the end so he could tip her out. She just shouted, “You bloody do and I will whack you with this paddle!” I didn’t doubt it and neither did Dad, so he just guided her into the shore instead.

We decided that timing each other round the two islands would be the safest way to do this and not have us descend in to silly antics, so that was what we did. Two goes each. The result wasn’t really in question; Dad first: Me second: Laura and Louisa only three seconds apart for third and fourth. We had a rest on the bank after that and drank some of the coffee Louisa had packed.

We played about until our skin was wrinkled and our arms were aching. When a cloud bank moved in across the sky we headed back to Tallentire and to dry clothes after hot showers. There is something to be said for the vinyl seats of a Landrover after all, we didn’t bother changing, just hopped back in the car (after stowing the kayaks on the roof) and drove home!

On the drive home we thought we saw a mountain rescue helicopter type machine heading towards the lake. It turns out somebody had been climbing on Grassmoor and had fallen. I have no idea where the hell they would climb on that particular mountain, TBH. They were flown off by a huey to hospital. I said it was the sight of these glamorous bodies cavorting in the lake. Dad said it was probably the sight of an old wrinkly like him that had caused the accident. I had to agree with him on that. He threw a soggy wet towel at me. I was driving the Landrover back as I love using it to intimidate tourists on the narrow country lanes that lead us back to Cockermouth.

We stayed at Dad’s until after our evening meal had settled and, as he and Louisa toddled off ot the pub, we set off back to Sunny Sheff. We did the usual trick of turning off at Wharncliffe Side so I could walk the woofie back to my house through Hill Top Woods, while Laura drove the mile home.

When I got back she was fast asleep in the kitchen armchair. We decided to hang fire on any sexual activity as we were quite knackered after a really busy day.  

Lonesome tonight? All week actually.

Monday 16^th June.

Today I was transported back in time to late September 2010 when I first began working at XXX & Y. Admittedly; I was still living at home then, with my Mum and had yet to buy my first car. I did have a three year old Weimaraner called Callie and a broken heart. Richard had been dead for around 18 months and I had sort of recovered from my nervous breakdown.

Dad, in his infinite wisdom, had found me a job with one of his old school (Harrow) and college (Balliol) buddies which he thought might stretch my mind more than the mundane and mindless job I had in Myers department store in Fremantle.  Tim Carr (the aforementioned buddy) is a partner in a law firm in Sheffield who was looking to recruit someone for the Archives and Records department; someone with a proven track record and the ability to think outside the box. It wasn’t a shoo-in. I had to fly back from Australia and have a proper interview but I think when he discovered I had a First Class Classics degree (as he had too) the job was mine to lose.

The first day was just like the first day anywhere new. Frightening and exciting at the same time. You were keen to do well and determined not to make any silly mistakes or faux-pas. I wasn’t a complete green horn to the world of work but I was a bit overawed by the size and scale of XXX & Y. I did wonder if I would ever fit in.

Fast forward three and a half years to this morning, and it felt like that very first day all over again. My heart hasn’t been broken, I don’t live with my Mum and I have worked here since September 2010 but boy did I feel just as nervous and wired as I did all those years ago. I guess it was the stupid, irrational loneliness of someone who prior to this has never felt lonely at all. I have been moping since Laura went up to Cumbria and I know it is absolutely no good. I have to be sensible and strong; not foolish and weak. Even playing my comfort CD on the drive into work didn’t lift my gloom (my comfort CD is a Japanese edition of a Baroque sampler that has the best ever version of Pachelbel’s Canon on it plus 

lots of other Baroque Classics for the Masses).

What did lift my gloom was my favourite barrister coming down to ARR to ask if I could look up anything we had which would help her forthcoming case. (When I say forthcoming I mean in October!) She is a real gem. I wouldn’t presume to call her a friend, even though I have been to one of her ‘parties’, but I think we have a very good working relationship. If I stay at XXX & Y I think we could become friends of a sort. Without going into details she is working on the defence of a case which hinges on ‘recovered memory’. She is out to try and discredit the idea of these memories being accurate or even true. I have been tasked with finding out as much case law as I can on previous trials where ‘rm’ has been a crucial part of the prosecution evidence.

This took all day and I still haven’t ploughed my way through a tenth of what is available. The problem is hardly any of the details are on line so I have digging away through weighty tomes for most of the day. Bliss.

At lunch a couple of us went down to the Indian on Broomhill and had their Thali special. One of the girls invited her friend from accounts down and, as you might have guessed, a certain Mr Smith tagged along too. He managed to grab himself a seat directly opposite me, so there was no excuse I could think of not to converse with him.

What was pleasing to note was that even with the absence of my squeeze for a week and a half, the prospect of a relatively attractive and fairly intelligent male companion who was definitely available and was carrying a torch so large for me it would have caused a major inferno roused no interest in me what so ever.  Is this true love (for Laura) or am I just so pissed off at Christopher that I will never see him as anything other than an annoying little tick? I am erring on the side of the tick theory!

We discussed the forthcoming International Concert Series at the City Hall. The new season kicks off on September 19^th with a programme of Mozart, Moussorgski and Prokofiev performed by the Halle. I told him that Laura and I had already booked for the entire season and he dropped the bombshell on me that he had too (that wasn’t the bombshell) with a girl called Janice! I pressed him for more details but he was embarrassed, especially as a few other people were listening too. It seems he met her on-line in a forum about Classical Music. She lives in Chesterfield and is as keen on music as we are. They have been to two things together already and he asked her if she would like to commit to the whole season at the City Hall. She did.

I am really pleased for him. I told him we will definitely have to meet up for drinks during the concerts and he can introduce Janice to his Lesbian friends. That should bring him even more kudos with her, perhaps. Seriously I am pleased. If he has a real girlfriend then we can be friends instead of him mooning around like a lost puppy after me. He is quite a nice guy and would probably be a good friend to have if the stupid bloody “love thing” hadn’t got in the way.

One or two of the others couldn’t believe I had shelled out a huge sum of money for a series of concerts over the year, especially not for Classical Music, but I explained it was excellent value to do it that way and music was one of my passions. The other girls from ARR agreed that I did tend to be glued to my i-pod when doing work that didn’t require serious concentration but when they asked to listen to it too, they were dismayed to find it was posh stuff! I laughed at it being called posh stuff and tried to fight my corner for more of them giving it a try. I am not sure I won but I do now have to provide four CDs of music that I think will convince them that they should give Classical Music a try (that is one for each of the doubters).

Back at work Mrs Briggs came over to offer her three penn’orth to my case law search and was amused by my description of our lunch time debate at the restaurant. She said she’d like a copy of anything I put together too. I told her Christopher’s news and she was delighted for both him and me, as it might mean he is off my case properly now. She too has bought a full set of tickets for the International Season so she’ll get to meet this Janice person as well.

The déjà vu feeling at work this morning came back on leaving as I remembered just how I felt on going home that first evening. I felt as though I landed in a very safe and snug nest where I could thrive. That feeling was reinforced as I drove back home.

Skyping Laura was a hoot as she tried to imagine what the Janice girl might be like. We came up with all sorts of possible descriptions of the kind of person who would find Christopher attractive. I suggested a sixth-form girl with eye sight problems. Laura thought that was far too cruel. She has bet me a whole pound of Rose and Violet creams that she will be as near to a copy of me as he could find. I wish she hadn’t said that. It is a pretty scary thought, TBH.

The evening was fantastically clear, so after my meal I rushed Callie out onto Hallam Moor, walking up from the old road to the Headstone. There were lots of people about and a woman with about six golden retrievers. She was really jolly and we had a long chat. She was especially interested to hear that I worked Callie. I told her what we’d done and how I was looking to get more picking up work in the season. She actually gave me her phone number and said I must ring her after August and she would see what she could do. It seems that she and her husband do loads of it, as they use it for training their retrievers.

She actually gave Callie a set of retrieves with a dummy she had with her and was impressed by her sighting and her control. That was pretty good.

It was dark when I got back home and as we’d been out for a long stroll I just let Callie into the back field for her last walk. She was obviously tired as she squatted just by the gate and came straight back in. She padded upstairs at about 1pm and went to sleep on the sheepskin rug at my side of the bed. She doesn’t do that very often at all, preferring to sleep in her crate usually. I was honoured.

Tuesday 17^th June.

Walked Callie and swam as usual. I wasn’t as foolish as to try 150 lengths today. I did swim every tenth length underwater though, which proved more tiring than I thought it would be. Sarah wasn’t on today and I asked the relief manager if anything was the matter with her. It turned out she is ill and had submitted a doctor’s note for the rest of the week. That is very unlike her. I planned to go round and see her after work and Skyping this evening.

I spoke to Mum this morning and she finally admitted why she didn’t want me and Laura to go with her to Karen’s funeral in Norwich. I tried asking her but she just said “It was complicated.” It seems Karen was so ill she may have taken her own life. They have recorded a misadventure verdict on her as they couldn’t be sure if the overdose she died from was accidental or deliberate. Mum spoke to Karen’s hubby and he thought it might have been deliberate as she would have wanted to get out of the situation herself, while she was still able to do so. It seems they had talked about the condition and how it would just get worse and worse until she died. She had asked him if he’d help her when the time came and he wasn’t able to say “Yes”. [I thought that was pretty cruel, but Mum – being Catholic still – could see his point of view. She still regards taking your own life as a mortal sin which will deny you entry into heaven. OMG, what a bloody outdated view for such an educated woman to hold!]

Work was good again. I am still ploughing through case law for my favourite Barrister. There is surprisingly little on recovered memory, which isn’t really surprising I suppose. Most of the people practising this form of hypnotherapy seem to have been charlatans and thoroughly discredited; that may be a gross generalisation on my part. Still it is great fun looking for instances and examples from the past.

Skyped Laura at 6.30 and told her about Karen’s funeral. She was surprised too. I then said I was going to pop round to see Sarah which she thought was a good idea too. She and her Mum had been over to the Gretna Outlet village, clothes shopping for our trip to Australia. Stephen is dead jealous and wants to be smuggled across in our suitcase. He wanted to know how Laura could afford it and she explained how hard she worked at the restaurant in the village to earn the money to go. She didn’t tell him I paid the difference between her economy ticket and a business class one. He doesn’t need to know that. She has promised to Skype the family as often as we can from Australia once we get used to the time difference. I can’t wait to get up there on Friday and cuddle with her again. Cuddling the dog isn’t quite the same. LOL

Sarah was surprised and pleased to see me, when I called round with a bunch of lavender from the garden and a bottle of wine. I told her to dry out the lavender and then to hang it in the wardrobe. She was feeling much better but seemed pretty vague about what the hatter was, so I didn’t press it.

We had a good old giggly evening and I was pleased I had been up to see her. She still thinks I am a bit intense at times and can’t get her head round what I do for entertainment, especially as she tried to get me to talk about the World Cup (seriously?) and TV programmes (?). I am afraid my knowledge in those areas could be written on the back of a postage stamp! She was keen to hear about my new niece in detail and I was able to show her a dozen or so photographs on my phone, which we cooed over. She also was amused by the tale of Charlotte and Jan’s idea of having their daughter born in Norway coming to nothing. I would be afraid to travel anywhere if I was due to give birth at any moment.

I rolled back home at about 10.30 and walked Callie through Hill Top Woods for her final walk of the day. This evening she started on the sheepskin rug but at some time in the night she padded off downstairs again. I heard her pad back up at just before six to poke her nose into my ear (like she has always done).

Wednesday June 18^th.

Usual morning. I have decided to work through today’s and tomorrow’s lunchtime so I can zoom up to Dad’s at lunchtime on Friday. That way I can be there by about three o’clock and Laura and I can commit some serious rumpy pumpy before the aged parent (and step-mum) get home. I guess it would be frowned upon if we excused ourselves after dinner and headed straight for the bedroom!

Laura thought this was a brilliant idea unless she gets Tom’s Call before Friday night. I am getting pretty close too, it would be so annoying to be on when we want to have sex again! Our periods have become more or less synchronised since we started living together, which is pretty weird.

The majority of today was spent collating and indexing all that I had found on cases involving recovered memory so that the information will be easily retrievable and accessible when it’s needed.

We planned next Wednesday’s girl meal night too; we will be at Rachel’s house next week, which is good as Laura will be back. I wouldn’t have fancied turning up without her, it would certainly have caused much speculation among the girls. They (OK we) do tend to nag away at changes to our routines.

Laura’s Dad is in the process of getting her a little car! Erm.. What? It seems one of the people at his work (he is a lorry driver) has an aged parent who is selling off her V Reg Nissan Micra. It has only done 48K miles and has been serviced as regular as clock work. What makes the deal even better than most is the fact she only wants £425 for it! If it bears up to Eric’s scrutiny he is going to buy it for Laura and make sure it is in excellent working order before giving it to her when we come back from Australia in September. This is pretty neat and comes at the problem of Laura’s mobility from a completely different perspective than mine. Having been on my insurance for over a year she has built up a small no claims amount but if the premium is too high her Dad is going to insure the vehicle in his name and put her on the policy as the only named driver! Good planning, Mr Thomas. I approve! 

Didn’t get to see Hetty Feather at the Crucible after all, either my bloody brother has discovered this blog (I fucking hope not - he will kill me, after he has passed on all my secrets to my Mum) or someone blabbed about me thinking he should be encouraging his children to visit the theatre by going himself. Anyway, the upshot was he asked if he could have my ticket and go with Jane instead of me. Jane’s Mum had been roped in to babysit Sophie. I agreed with alacrity and then decided not to get myself a single ticket, miles away from them in the auditorium, so they went alone. Good job too really. To show that Phil isn’t a complete pillock all the time he actually gave me a cheque for the cost of the tickets. They had a whale of a time. I bet even more because Daddy was with them instead of Mum with Aunt Vic, as usual.

Hit the charp relatively early and had a dream free night despite trying my best to dream about either Richard or Laura tonight. Rats!

Thursday 19^th June.

Usual routine again this morning – dog walk, swim, breakfast, shower, off to work. I have looked for recovered memory old cases until I think I have exhausted the subject. If there are anymore out there they are hiding themselves extremely well.

Worked through lunch and left at 6pm tonight so I could zoom off at 1pm tomorrow. As I was leaving I bumped into Mr Carr. I do see him occasionally. He was pleased about my research for Ms X, my favourite barrister. I was surprised he knew already. He told me that he kept an eye on John’s girl to make sure he hadn’t been foolish in employing me. However, over the years since I had started I had become one of the best researchers they’d ever employed. It is lovely to hear praise like this from one of the head honchos. I joking said, “Oh does that mean I should ask for a pay rise?” He laughed but went on with, “It actually means I wish you’d consider working in Law when you complete your PhD. We’d be really pleased to have you on the staff here full time.”

I went through the usual platitudes about being flattered etc but I did emphasise that it had always been my dream to follow in Dad’s footsteps and I was desperate to become a lecturer. If it all went pear shaped could I take him up on his offer? He was non-committal in his reply. He did say I was obviously my father’s daughter; when they had finished Balliol together Dad had been determined to pursue a career in academia and he had single-mindedly gone for it until he succeeded.

I told him that was Dad, stubborn as the proverbial mule.

We crossed the car park still joking with each other, which is hardly surprising really when you consider I have known Mr Carr (Tim) all my life. I wondered what other people would make of our easy and casual friendship; would they think, “there goes the boss with his little piece of fluff”?

He asked when I was seeing the old goat again and when I said tomorrow, he asked me to give him his regards and that he hoped the pregnancy was progressing safely. (That was a surprise, too!) I told him I would bring back a disc of Louisa’a ultrasound scan if he wanted, he declined that delight…

Mum was waiting at home for me with a couple of bundles. They were a couple of dresses she had seen out shopping which she thought I would love, so she bought them both as she couldn’t make up her mind which she like best. One had a really elaborately embroidered bodice, a bit like a salwar kemeez and a shortish skirt instead of the full one which a salwar has. The bodice is absolutely gorgeous and even better than that, it fits perfectly. It is a beautiful pale green colour. I loved it.

The second is a shortish jersey dress with lace inserts in strategic places, no I don’t mean across the bosom or bum area! It is a pale lilac colour and is also gorgeous. Being jersey this fits even better than the green dress. It is quite a bit shorter too. I was surprised Mum bought something like this but she remembered the three jersey dresses I had in Australia and thought this would go well with those. Good old Mum.

Even better Mum had brought dinner with her, OK it needed cooking, but she slapped a huge trout on the drainer and said, “You want salad or veggies with it?”

I said, “Both.”

So I prepped some salad while she stuck on a pan of baby tates and then a few mixed greens, after 10 minutes. We opened a Houghton White Burgundy and had a really enjoyable, and surprising meal. After we had scoffed the fish and eaten the last of the apple pie I started on Tuesday we had a post prandial sprawl in the conservatory. Mum asked how my week without Laura had been and I simply replied, “Hell!”

She said that was good. I obviously felt much more for her now that I had in Australia last summer (their winter). I had to point out that circumstances were different then, I was apart from her for five days out of every seven whereas now we were together all the time. I have been quite bereft at times and felt as though a part of me is missing.

She repeated the word, “Good. That means you really do love her and it isn’t just a silly pash or whatever you girls used to call it at school.”

I asked her how she felt about that and she said, “Well, honestly I would have preferred a BF but that is just selfish old me hoping there may be another grandchild along. Knowing that you two really are in love and happy together, you know that I think it is fine too. I also know your Gran has come round to the idea of you and Laura being a couple which is like a leopard changing its spots.”

I told her I knew that, even though she joked about introducing the lesbians to her group of cronies, I could tell she was pleased that I was happy regardless of the person’s gender who had made me happy.

I asked her what Aussie Gran would have said about the idea.

I didn’t get the answer I was expecting, “She’d probably have written you out of her will!”

I thought she was joking, but apparently she was in earnest. Gertrude may have appeared liberal and tolerant but she was as bigoted and narrow minded as the rest of the world. “She did send your Dad to Harrow, remember?”

We moved into the kitchen so I could Skype the subject of our previous conversation and after a few minutes had the call hijacked as Mum and Molly had a long chat about how they couldn’t do anything with their daughters these days blah… blah… blah…

Long after the call, and when Mum had left, I had a text from Laura saying “I love you and your Mum, she’s really funny! Hurry up tomorrow!”

My reply was “You betcha!”

Yomping on Kinder Scout. Old guy plays footsie with me! [Yuck!]

Friday June 13^th

I am not superstitious, touch wood.

I spent a solitary morning walking Callie in Hill Top Wood. She seemed a bit confused by the absence of the other girl’s smell in the house and kept padding up stairs to the study (My attic) and back as though she was searching for Laura.

I had a solitary swim at the pool and tried for 150 lengths to compensate for being alone. This was foolish as I almost made myself sick with the extra effort. Sarah and I had a long chat and I tried to show a cheerful face to hide how tearful I felt. She said I must find it strange without Laura and my eyes brimmed but didn’t spill.

I decided to try and cheer myself up by reading my new book. It’s Mary Beard’s new one about humour in Ancient Rome. This took me out of my blue patch for a while, in fact for most of the morning.

This arvo I set to and attacked the garden, getting the thing tidied up, the lawn cut short and weeds removed. This is not a long job and by about 2.30 I had done all I could do. So I repainted the outside of Callie’s palace with the green wood-stain as another make work job. This took me over an hour and attracted the attention of Steve and Ann. They told me this was the longest time they had seen me spend in the garden since I built the dog run for Callie. I explained I was at a loose end with Laura being at her Mum

& Dad’s.

I was invited to come round for tea, so I accepted with alacrity. At 5pm I presented myself at their door and was greeted like a long lost friend. We had a lovely meal of home cooked fish and chips with a really scrumptious apple pie for dessert. I wasn’t sure what we’d be having so I took a bottle of white and a bottle of red. We proved that red wine doesn’t really go with fish and chips!

They had a couple of their friends round too. Katie and Rob. They must’ve been about midway in age between me and them. Katie was quite a large person and Rob quite skinny. They seemed quite an oddly matched pair. I am sure that Rob tried to play footsie with me under the table at one point, so I moved my leg out of the way and he did it again. I kicked out at his leg and think I hit his shin.

I once had sex with a guy who’d played footsie with me at a packed dinner table. This old guy had no chance at all. Even if he’d been a younger guy he’d have had no chance at all. Even Johnny Depp would

have had no chance at all. OK, maybe Johnny Depp would…

I stayed until about 6.30 when I rushed back home and skyped Laura. We chatted for an hour and I was determined she wouldn’t see my crying. We both confessed to missing each other like mad and couldn’t wait until next Friday.

Saturday June 14^th.

It was a glorious morning, so after the dog walk and swim I went into town, parked the car and caught the Manchester bus. Callie and I got dropped on the Snake Road at the point where it crossed the flat bit between Kinder Scout and Bleaklow. My plan was to walk across the Kinder plateau and then drop down into Edale at the far end to catch the train back to Sheffield.

I admit I was a bit worried about finding my way if the mist came down but I needn’t have worried as the Pennine Way route was so well defined in places it was like a bloody motorway. We (that is Callie and I) did find ourselves in dense low clouds for a while but we just walked on the path way, following the map and a compass bearing and we arrived at The Downfall for our lunch stop.

Masses of people came yomping past us. Far more than I was expecting, but I remembered it was a Saturday after all and that sort of explained it. I ate my snap and had a drink from my flask and looked at Hayfield (I think) down the valley for a good half an hour. By the time I’d done that the cloud had gone and we struck out for Edale. Again I took a bearing, this time from Downfall to Grindsbrook, just to be on the safe side and off we toddled.

It was a bloody good job I did. This area of the top was really flat bit riven by deep peaty troughs, called peat hags. I found that once at the bottom of one I couldn’t see out at all. Even standing on the top of the next hag didn’t improve my visibility all that much either. If I hadn’t taken a bearing I wouldn’t have had an idea of where I was aiming at all as the featureless plateau had nothing to focus upon to guide me.

It did get a bit hot swarming up the side of these stupid troughs, so after about five of these I unzipped my trouser bottoms to reveal my legs to the world. I think they are one of my best features (guys will tell you it’s my bosom, no doubt) but they did look a tad pasty and lacking colour. I will have to wear more short skirts and shorts to get some colour back in them. Despite my colouration I do seem to tan quite well. Last year my legs were so well tanned I was able to wander around without tights for ages as my legs were so brown anyway. I digress.

Using the trusty compass I eventually pitched up at the top of Grindsbrook with only one slight mishap having befallen me. I decided, about half way across the plateau, if I jumped across the trough I would be spared the strenuous climb out on the other side. This was easier said than done, however, as the troughs would have needed an Olympic long jumper to clear them completely and I invariably landed about half way up the slope of the trough opposite. This wasn’t too much of a problem as I landed two footed and weighing only about 9 stone, I figured I wouldn’t sink in much.

This proved true until about 50 yards from Grindsbrook, which I could sort of make out from the trough tops by now. I launched myself across the gaping chasm and landed two footed on the opposite side only to sink in up to my knees! I let out a cry of anguish but discovered that it was as easy as anything to get myself out of the hole I had made for myself. On top of the next hag I wiped my legs clean and examined my boots and socks, which were clagged up to the ankles with black soggy peaty mud. Luckily, being Goretex line boots, they hadn’t let in water, but they did look a mess. I had to fight back a burning desire to get one of the cloths I carry in my rucksack out, to clean up my boots there and then (the OCD kicking in) but I was able to resist the urge and we carried on to the top of the brook as planned.

There I dumped my rucksack, scrabbled about inside it for the raggy bit of cloth, took off my boots and spent a good twenty minutes cleaning the horrible muddy mess from them. I know it is stupid and not worth the bother, but it is something I just have to do. Interestingly, although I spent a while cleaning my footwear I didn’t do anything about a completely clagged up puppy who sat and watched me busily cleaning. I reasoned that by the time we got to the bottom of Grindsbrook the daft dog would have been in and out of the water so much she’d have washed all the mud from herself naturally. (This indeed proved to be the case.)

In Edale village I went into the Old Nag’s Head and asked if they served tea. They did. So I had a pot of tea before wandering off again to the station to wait for the train back to Sheffield. This line has to be one of the prettiest I have travelled along, it skirts the foot of Lose Hill and Win Hill then stcks to the valley floor until it hits Hathersage. Then we disappeared into a long tunnel which brought us out back in Sheffield. Rah rah rah. (This bit was a bit grubby in comparison, TBH.)

We walked through the city back to the car park, with me getting a few stares for being in hiking gear and shorts. We arrived home at about 3.00pm where I ran a bath instead of a shower and had a long hot soak and relaxed. I relaxed even more in the bedroom where I treated myself to a session with the Rabbit.

I skyped Laura as usual at six thirty and told her about my day. Strangely enough she had been walking with her sister Avril and family and then she had had a long relaxing bath afterwards. I bet she used her rabbit too. We didn’t mention this as Loll’s folks were in the room and even joined in at one point.

I was a good girl. I didn’t cry. (OK. I did when the call ended.)

Sunday June 15^th.

Went over to Mum’s for the day. She said she wanted to go round some of the north Derbyshire garden centres so I drove us to Calton Lees, the one in Hope Valley, one at Calver Sough (which I didn’t even know existed) and a Cactus nursery in Matlock. This was some sort of penance I think.

At first I was OK with it, I had never been to the Calver one, after we’d done the Hope Valley place. Then we pitched up at Chatsworth’s Calton Lees one by which time I was beginning to flag despite letting Callie have a good old run in the Duchess of Devonshire’s garden. I suggested we went to Caudwell’s Mill tea room for a snakerooni and Mum agreed.

After our scoff she decided she wanted to find this blasted Cactus Nursery in Matlock. It took bloody ages. In the end I called up the address on my mobile phone and found the route from where we were (Matlock Bath). I was disappointed by the place but Mum thought it was ideal and she bought a handful of succulent plants. Thoroughly garden shopped out, I drove us back to Mum’s and a very late lunch or early dinner.

After a super lunner or dinch we had a long old gossip about life, the universe and everything (no not the book!). This is something we do once in a while. I confessed to feeling completely adrift without Laura and Mum told me this was a good sign that our relationship meant something and was serious. I knew that anyway.

I spilled the beans about my worry over what would happen next. Laura’s graduation is the large elephant in the room. When she does that I am really concerned that what career path she decides to follow may take her away from me and Sheffield. I know it is selfish to hope it doesn’t, but I am scared that it is very, very likely.

Mum asked if Laura moved away would it make me love her any the less. I said that it wouldn’t. She asked what the matter was then. We would sort something out when the time came. There was no point in borrowing trouble before it happened. To be fair I have used this philosophy all my life – don’t worry about things before hand as it may never happen. It is a bit of an Australian approach to life. I told Mum this and she hooted, telling me at least my father had been good for more than their three children then!

Mum has been busy with her camera films from Australia last year. She has put them on to her lap top and tonight she burned them onto a CD for me to have. They were such fun to see again. I could see why Mum objected to my denim shorts so much on the times I wore them; my buttocks were hanging out the back of them most of the time. I hadn’t realised how short they actually were. At one point she spoke to herself saying, “I hope Vic doesn’t bend over or we’ll have a second new moon visible!” That got us into hysterics.

She went on to say, “As for that bloody lace top. If you ever wear that again don’t put on the nude bra with it. We had guys walking into lamp-posts as they were too busy ogling your breasts to watch where they were going, as it looks like you have nothing on underneath it…”

“But that was the idea, Mum!”

We had to agree to differ.

I kind of like the idea of guys checking me out. It makes me feel good about myself. Is that such a crime? Mum thought it was a short step from that to selling my body for money (if only you knew, Mum, I thought).

The video of us at the wildlife park holding the koalas was magical, as was the feeding of the Roos in Dunsborough. I am so looking forward to sitting at home and watching this CD through by myself properly to fully appreciate it. Laura is going to love it.

I left for home at about 8pm after we had skyped Laura together and Mum and Molly had reminisced about the old times when she was Mum & Dad’s cleaner / caretaker at our holiday home, before they divorced. Molly hinted that she wished she’d had the courage to do the same years ago. I was a bit shocked and so was Laura. It was obvious there was going to be a long conversation about this when our skyping was over.

Back home I sewed some more of my Ruskin project, walked the woofie and had a solitary night – again.

Love sick already. (After only 24 hours!)

Monday June 9^th.

One day until Laura’s last exam. Two days until she leaves me for a week at her Mum & Dad’s. I didn’t think I would be worried but I am. I know it’s silly but apart from the odd night where I have been away doing research for my PhD, this will be the longest time we have been apart since she moved in with me! I am taking her to the station on Wednesday and I won’t be with her again until a week on Friday. OMG. How will I cope?

It is really, really scary. It is also really, really stupid to feel like this! I need to knuckle down and get a grip.

I am so tempted to say Bugger Uni. It is only one day after she leaves that we officially can call it quits for the year. I have already booked myself in at XXX & Y for the week after she goes and then for the rest of the time right up to our flight to Australia. This will cover my absence from work for the time we are out there and give me some time in lieu as well. In fact five weeks full time will give me the equivalent of 17 weeks off from my part-time work if I need it. I will use 8 weeks’ worth for the trip.

Laura stayed at home doing last minute revision and I went off into Uni as usual. Feli and I just mucked about really. We didn’t feel like getting anything done that we’d be putting away for a couple of months so I taught her how to play hearts. We found a couple of other people to join us and we had a morning’s card school. We used Feli’s office which has much more space than my broom cupboard.

Tea was waiting for me on my arrival home and then afterwards Loll went off to Dominic’s for the last time before we go away. I collected her from the restaurant at closing time and we spent a long leisurely shower together after walking Callie through Hill Top Wood.

I asked Laura if she’d miss me while at her Mum & Dad’s. She said that she would but it was only for a few days and we could Skype each other every night. I insisted that we had to do that, every night at 6.30 on the button.

Tuesday June 10^th.

Why on earth do the Uni use Sheffield Wednesday’s football ground as an exam venue? It seems mad to me. I left Laura at the entrance and then fought my way through the traffic to the Uni buildings. She was going to catch the bus back home straight after her exam rather than wander into the city to find me at the Uni or the solicitors’.

Laura was very pleased with the way her last exam had gone. She thought she had managed it very well. She reflected on how different this year had been compared to her one at Lancaster, last year. She said that a huge part of her success (assuming she did succeed) was down to the stability and love she had got from me during the year. I almost wept. If I was going to assess the year too, I think it has to have been one of the happiest years of my life. [It certainly matches the years I had with Richard for happiness and contentment although, still being an undergraduate at the time, they were very different to my year with Laura.]

 She had made a huge salad with prawns for our meal and it was delicious. We went out with Callie after tea doing a small walk from Hugh Bradfield that takes in Richer Edge, Agden reservoir and Low Bradfield village too. We pitched up in the Old Horns pub and had a bottle of wine between us.

We were quietly sipping our Semillon / Sauvignon blanc when we got hit upon by two likely lads who thought their luck was in when they spotted us at the table by the window. We politely told them to go away; then to get lost and finally in a voice too loud for the room we told them if they continued harassing us we’d inform the landlord! The barman heard and came over to see what was happening. Rah rah rah. He told the two guys that if they continued to give us any trouble he would ask them to leave. It is lucky that I have used the pub quite a lot, so he knew who I was by face if not by name. I introduced us to him, he was called James. He seemed quite nice and was obviously pleased to be our knight errant! (Even if his wandering was only from the bar to our table.)

We finished our wine and zoomed off home. Thinking about previous idiots who have tried to chat me (and us) up I was expecting trouble of some kind when we left but the two beaux just sat at their table supping their ale.

Callie was still expecting a bit of a stroll before bedtime so I let her have a run on the back field before we hit the charp.

Wednesday June 11^th

Well today’s the day…

How will I cope with Laura not being around after tonight? This is pretty much unexplored territory for me. Before she moved in we lived our love affair apart, with me in Sheffield and she in Lancaster; I could get my head round that idea because the situation was fixed and immutable. That all changed last year when she moved to Sheffield and I had a live in lover for only the second time in my life.

What was strange at first has become acceptable and routine (in a way) but still exciting and wonderful too; like it did when I moved in with Richard in Cambridge. I know what Laura was feeling when she made the sea change, as I have been there myself. I know I am being silly over a few days apart but I am worried that I will go to pieces about it.

We did the usual stuff this morning and then Laura drove me to work so she could have use of the car for the day, she needed to do some shopping for her folks. I think she was buying them presents.

I had a long chat with Mrs Briggs and she said she understood exactly what I was going through with this “break” but I was being silly to worry as it wasn’t a ‘break – break’, just a time apart while she visited her parents . She told me she thought what we had together, from what she had seen on the times we have been out together [at concerts, the theatre or meals] was very strong and very special and in a way it made her jealous to witness our emotional attachment as she and her partner had grown a bit less exciting over the years they’d been together.

She thought a strength of our relationship would be seeing how good we were when we had some time apart. That sort of made sense to me, it hasn’t taken away the knot in my tummy though.

Laura picked me up at 4.30pm and I drove us both across the Snake Road to Manchester. We stopped at the very top of the route to let Callie stretch her legs as she was going to be cooped up in the car in the city while I made sure Loll caught her train.

We had a minor emotional scene on the platform as her train was scheduled to leave. We had a mega hug and then I did a repeat of our first ever serious snog on the platform in almost the same place we did it almost two years ago. Once again we didn’t care a hoot about the other people, passengers, staff etc around us, we just let the world know we were a couple who were parting for a while. I have to admit I had a rather wet cheek as I walked back to the car.

I think Callie sensed my confused emotions as she kept nudging my hand as I let her have a run round the car-park before I drove us both home.

I had a text almost as soon as I walked in the door at home from Laura. “Mum picked me up at the station. Skype tomorrow at 6.30pm. I LOVE you lots and lots.”

That made my cheeks wet again! I am a silly cow.

Thursday June 12^th.

Last day at Uni. It is like a ghost town. Once packed places are almost deserted. I bumped into Mandy and her BF who are staying in the city for a week before they go on separate family holidays to exotic foreign locations. I reminded her to send me a card, she promised she would and then surprised me by giving me a hug. She whispered, “Thank you for everything…” I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t really done anything I thought, just been my usual muddling through self.

Feli and I made a pretence of doing some work but neither of us had our hearts in it. Feli is zooming away to Bordeaux tomorrow, she is crewing on a yacht around Arcachon Bay area for a few weeks during the summer. I told her I was envious, I haven’t sailed properly for over a year and a half, when I was out with my sister and brother-in-law on their yacht in the Indian Ocean. She said she envied me going for almost two months to Australia. I suppose it shows that the other person’s grass does seem greener.

We decided to have a long lunch at Lokanta and then call it a day / week / year from there.

Back home seemed really strange and quiet without my beautiful girl waiting for me. I was tempted to text her and skype her immediately but that would have, maybe, worried her and seemed a bit on the desperate side too – especially as it wasn’t even 24 hours since she’d gone. Instead I had a blast of some rousing Wagner to lift the gloom.

I went through the house cleaning and polishing like a maniac while the music was playing, even though I had given it a thorough clean over the weekend, like I usually do. I put all my dirty washing on, I was tempted to wash the bedding but when I went to remove the pillow cases the smell of Laura was still lingering there so I decided I wouldn’t wash them at all until next Friday, when I was driving up to Cumbria to be reunited. She would have laughed at the idea that I would sleep in sheets that were over a week old, knowing how obsessive I am about things like that. I hope she would be touched by why I hadn’t washed them though. I am resolved not to be wimpy or weedy though when we talk and skype. That would just be pathetic, even though my stomach is in a permanent knot and my heart is aching already.

We skyped for an hour at 6.30 pm. I talked to Laura, her Mum (Molly) and Stephen (Brother). They had a giggle at the fact I had cleaned the house, especially when she said, “Are you removing all traces of me then?” She was joking but I almost sobbed. I coughed to hide the emotion I was feeling.

I felt even worse after we had talked than I had before. I am a complete drongo. I shouldn’t feel like this. I am a rational, educated woman. I have emotional intelligence and common sense.

I just miss her so much already! Arrrggghhhhh!

Climbing on Limestone and bridge abseiling.

Friday June 6^th.

What a drongo I am! 

Yesterday’s wasn’t Laura’s penultimate exam, she has TWO more! One of which is on Saturday! I mean, Saturday? What is the world coming to? In a weird departure from the norm that beats Saturday for her exam, is the fact that her final one, on Tuesday, is at Sheffield Wednesday’s football ground. (It really is her final one, honest.) How mad does that sound? It means she is only a couple from miles from the venue to home when she has finished (it ends at 11) so she is going to catch a bus back to Oughtibridge rather than wend her weary way westwards to XXX & Y after the exam is over. Callie will be surprised to see her at least.

She spent most of the day revising for Maths II, which is a three hour jobbie, tomorrow morning in the Teaching Suite. Well, that’s what she told me she’d been doing. Arriving home to a meal of home-made burgers and chips and a freshly baked lemon drizzle cake did make me wonder how much revision went on when there was cooking in evidence. The burgers were great. I do love our home made ones, they are so much nicer than premade, shop bought ones.

I had a strange phone call from Nadia K. this evening (the old school friend I bumped into in Australia last year). She was looking through her photo’s and found some of us having lunch at Perth. She remembered I had said I would try and get across the Irish Sea to Derry; she wondered if I was still going to? (She obviously had forgotten the huge row we had about my Lesbianism!) I explained that I had myself fully booked until September with work at the solicitors’ and then another two months in Australia. I am not sure whether she sounded disappointed or relieved, TBH. Laura thinks she sounds like a complete pillock and, after our spat last year, I am very much inclined to concur with her assessment.

Dad called again to see whether we were going to let Phil and Jane use the van on Arran. I am a bit ambivalent about it to be honest. I know he is my brother and all that but he does veer towards pillockhood too! They would find the space at a premium, with the van having only two bedrooms and Angela and Peter being too old to share any more. Plus there is baby Sophie to consider in all this. Then, there is the fact that we have stocked it with only enough items for four people: four settings four dinner; four of each kind of glass ware etc etc. I think Dad got my drift.

TBH, I think it is a fucking cheek on his part. He was given a chance to come in with us on the purchase but he made his feelings very clear to me on the subject (he obviously didn’t to Dad) so I don’t see why we should even consider letting the cheapskate use OUR van. I hope Dad doesn’t let him after all, I will be very annoyed if he does!

Laura wandered down to Dominic’s again tonight and I went and collected her as usual. This time I took the car so we wouldn’t have the drag up the hill to my little house. She had made over £35 in tips again. She likes the work but is looking forward to being at XXX & Y with me for a month when her exams finish.

Saturday June 7^th.

We didn’t alter our routine for the day, even though it was an exam day for Lollster. So we swam after the joint dog walk and then after Brekkers I drove Laura up to the Phildelphia Teaching Centre for her final Maths exam (that’s where I had got confused last week – the last actual exam she does is Probability Modelling). This place is just off Penistone Road, so once I had dropped her off I took Callie for a stroll up Rivelin Valley. It was so peaceful and warm as I strolled past the old dams built for some long forgotten industry at Malin Bridge. There are quite a few of them as you walk up the track that eventually leads to the A57, Snake Road. There is a little shop there where I bought an ice cream and then we sauntered back down to the car at the bottom.

I did a grocery shop at Morrisons (£120! Phew!) and then went to pick up the Lollster who was standing outside the building as I pulled up. I was dead on time so they must’ve started and finished exactly on time too. She saw the bags on the back seat and said, “You haven’t forgotten I am going to Tallentire on Wednesday, have you?” I assured her I hadn’t and the grocery mountain was to tide me over the long lonely hours while she would be away. She slapped my arm.

The plan is I will drive the Little Darling One over to Manchester Piccadilly station where she’ll get the train up to Carlisle, on Wednesday. Molly has arranged to pick her up at the other end. Then on the weekend of the 20^th (Friday) I will zoom up to Dad’s for the weekend and we’ll come back down together for a month of time at XXX & Y.

It will be strange having the house to myself for a week and a bit. Like it used to be before last September.

Back home we unloaded the car and then went to Rock. We did some messing about on the Limestone Cliffs in Monsal Dale. They make a change (and a challenge) compared to the gritstone of the edges. We found plenty of chocked routes and ready belayed places on the first couple of ascents and then spent a happy hour abseiling down off the Monsal Head Viaduct. That was great fun, especially as we attracted a crowd at one point and I showed off by going down head first. It looks really spectacular but is quite safe. You do need strong stomach muscles and good leather gloves to avoid rope burns.

We had an early evening meal at the Bowling Green in Bradwell, I have been here before with Alan. On that occasion Alan stepped on the pub cat which was asleep in the dining room and he threw his beer all over the windows as he fell. I had a huge fit of the giggles and was no help at all and he just got more and more annoyed with me. I still giggled when I told Laura about it.

She asked me why I hadn’t been serious about Alan, as he sounded quite a catch. I explained that materially he probably was: partner in a veterinary practice; he owned his house; there were no ties or baggage from previous relationships; he was a Scot (which helps). The only sex we had was good but not earth shattering [I had given him a few blowjobs and he had made passable efforts to lick me to orgasm a few times too] the main downer was the fact that he was not interested in most of the things that I was. He wasn’t a theatre goer; he didn’t listen to classical music; he said that he had no time for reading; rock climbing was a foreign language; I couldn’t get him out fell walking in the Peak District.

If I had been the sort of woman who wanted a stable secure marriage with a couple of children and was prepared for a dull sort of life, then he would have been ideal. Plus when compared to Richard, he didn’t hold a candle either – but no man I have met since his death has, TBH.

We drove home through the Hope Valley, up past Ladybower reservoir and round the basin of the Strines Inn and reservoirs too. Callie got a stroll home from Onesacre and Laura drove the last mile back to our house. This was planned so we could start having a lot of sex and not be interrupted by having to take Callie for her final walk of the day.

Our pillow talk after we had both had an orgasm was about Laura’s probability exam, from earlier in the week, and how she really enjoyed that field of maths. She was thinking of going into work after Uni which would be in that direction. I have the awful feeling that it is very probable that when she does that I may lose her. I can’t imagine anywhere in the local area where she would be able to work in that field. (But hey, what do I know about Maths?)

Sunday June 8^th.

Had a mini lie-in this morning; until 7.30, when Callie could obviously stand it no longer and she came and nuzzled me in bed.

Laura had her last full day of revision and I cooked lunch for us two and Mum. She had driven over to see how Loll’s exams had gone. Like me, she thought they were over by now, but that was because I had been her source of information!

She had news about Gran. She has won a local knitting competition which means her design for a three dimensional knitted object is entered in a Scotland wide competition. She had made a bunch of Fuchsias in wool! I can’t really picture it myself. Mum said that Gran was really pleased with herself. I did wonder why I hadn’t had a call from Gran herself about this but I said nothing.

We explained about Laura going up to her Mum & Dad’s after the last exam and, when Loll had toddled off for her afternoon revision session, Mum asked if there was anything the matter between us. I was tempted to be sarcastic to her but in the end I realised she wasn’t being snotty about it, she seriously wanted to know. I explained that Laura just wanted a break from everything before we embarked on our work at XXX & Y together and then zoomed to Aus. Plus her Mum had wanted to see her as she was missing her regular visits. [We don’t seem to have been to Dad’s much since Easter.]

Mum was miffed that she hadn’t been told about Laura getting work at the solicitors’ so I got it in the neck for not keeping her up to date on all our news. A bit unfair I thought, but that’s Mum for you. She can keep secrets or not tell you stuff, but if you do the same she gets annoyed.

Mum stayed for tea – cold collation with meat from the leg of lamb – and then went off to Holmesfield at about 8.30.

A fairly quiet end to the weekend really. All that is on the cards for the next week is Laura’s final exam and her going to Cumbria and me taking Angela and Peter to see Hetty Feather at the theatre in a week’s time.