Dream Theatre?

Monday June 30^th.

We fly to Aus next month. I am so excited. Still have the tedium of three weeks at work to endure before we go though, for every upside there’s a down. (That would be a good title for a song –  it probably already is and I have dragged it from my subconscious.)

The Aged parent phone before we left for work to ask if they could come down and stay on Saturday as they have tickets to see Dream Theatre at The City Hall. “Dream Theater” (sic) I should say as they are American and still think correct spelling makes them part of an imperialist plot by the UK. Rant avoided here as I can’t be arsed to criticise the whole country for being a set of drongos.

I told Dad I was OK with them coming down and did they want a pre-gig meal cooking? He was delighted by the idea (I knew he would be). Laura is at Dominic’s all week working up a vast amount of spending money for our trip – mainly from the tips she gets. She had over £60 last time she worked a Saturday night.

Dad and Louisa will arrive mid-morning, they want to come via Meadowhall (they even asked me if I wanted to meet them for some retail therapy there – I declined). I asked how the baby was doing and they are doing fine it seems. It is still pretty early in the pregnancy but the pre-natal unit in Carlisle is being very good with Louisa because she is an older woman. So they should too! She has regular checks and the like to make sure nothing is amiss, this is very reassuring. I am so used to the idea of having a kids sister, I would be heart-broken if anything happened. (OK it may be a boy, but I have my heart set on a kid sister. I told Louisa this and she said she would try her best! LOL)

Work and daily life continued as usual. Nothing earth shattering happened. Today and I doubt if it will over the course of the week to be honest. Not having the interplay of personalities there are around a campus it is easy to see how people in their work fall into a rut with it. It sort of makes me see why Christopher has behaved towards me over the four years I have worked at XXX & Y.

We finished early as usual, by working our lunch hours. Had a meal, a relaxing hug, and then the Lollster went down to the restaurant. Feeling enervated by the warm weather I ended up snoozing on the sofa for most of the evening, with Radio 3 playing softly in the background. I had realised I was tired. I  just drifted away with beautiful music to lull me to sleep. When I was woken up Laura had taken Callie for a walk and we could just pile into the shower then bed. She is a star.

Tuesday July 1^st

More of the same really today: dog walk, swimming, breakfast, work, home, meal, Laura to restaurant, Me sewing, dog walk, shower together, bed.

When written like that it is pretty banal really, isn’t it? Still the “X”s on the wall chart keep growing.

Wednesday July 2^nd.

After getting into work I realised I left the back door open (or I thought I had). Laura couldn’t remember closing it and neither could I. I made a frantic call to Julie and she went round to check for me and to lock it if it was open. It wasn’t. Phew! Thank goodness. Is this the onset of early Alzheimer’s? 

The rest of the office and I had a good old giggle about the silly things we had done owing to forgetfulness. I not only had a cheered up morning, but I discovered everyone seems to have their ditzy moments. We made it a condition for everyone who entered Archives this morning that they had to tell us about a moment of forgetfulness from their past. Everybody had one they could recount. I was amazed.  I could have killed Christopher when he told the office he had forgotten about me only wanting a concert companion which was why he had tried to snog me after a show  couple of years ago. The little git.

I suffered a good hours grilling about what was wrong with Christopher? Why did I only want a concert companion? How come I had not let on to anyone in the office about this? [I did point out that their very reaction was the main reason!] Ann told me she knew he was always ultra-nice to me but had no idea it was unrequited love which was making him behave that way. If I didn’t mind she would try and take him off my hands. I couldn’t give a sensible reason why not so I told her, “If you want him, he’s yours!” I am not sure that Christopher will be too pleased if he discovers I have given him away like this.

I went to the web to find out about Dream Theater (sic) tickets etc and discovered they were playing the City Hall as a low key warm-up to a festival gig the next evening. That sounded pretty cool, so I buzzed down to the Lollster in Repro and asked her if she wanted the night of from Dom’s to go and see them. She replied with a “Not really, but if you want to go, go ahead…” That left me on the horns of a dilemma; did I really want to see them after all? In the end I decided I wouldn’t bother either.

After Laura went off to the restaurant I drove Callie and me up to Loxley Edge and we had a good old hour and a bit’s walk along a virtually unknown little edge right in the city. It has overgrown quite a lot and there are no real places to climb at all (that I could find) but Callie loved running about and trying to catch rabbits. She failed.

It was quite a muggy night and there were far more bugs than I would have liked. I was surprised to see that the road to the car park had been resurfaced recently. It used be pitted and cratered like the surface of the moon but now some kind people (the council perhaps?) had filled all the holes and put a beautifully smooth and car-spring-friendly road way down to the car park. It will merely mean more people come and use it and it’ll be less popular for couples wanting a place for a secret bonk!

In my year-long dalliance with Alan we had parked up here one evening after going to the Admiral Rodney (further down the hill). It was where I had given him a BJ. I remember it particularly as once he had shot his load and I’d removed my head from his lap there was a second car parked quite close alongside us – he had not said a thing about it! I felt so embarrassed that the people in the car would know exactly what I had been doing when my head miraculously reappeared. I made him take me home at once.

I drove slowly back home and then collected Laura from Dominic’s at kicking out time. We both walked Callie and then hit the charp for some passion after our shower.

Thursday July 3^rd

Thinking about Alan yesterday must have made me dream about Richard. (Don’t question my logic) I had this amazing dream where we were on holiday somewhere hot, out on the water in a pedalo and he asked me to a bj. I agreed but then seemed to end up with loads of pedalos coming over and the guys in them asking for a bj too. Everyone was very disappointed that I wouldn’t. 

It was both exciting and disgusting at the same time. I woke up really wet and horny as hell. Laura was still fast asleep so I decided not to wake her but snook out one of our toys from the bedside drawer (a replica penis which has a sort of sucker at the end so you can fix to a wall, table or floor; fastening it to the wardrobe door and backing myself onto it used to be my favourite way of masturbating when I was younger). I started to use the toy gently on myself and kept biting my lip to stop myself from making any noise.

It proved unnecessary because just as I felt a head of steam rising I also found another hand closing round mine and a voice said, “I’ll finish this for you if you can do the same for me afterwards?”

I didn’t need asking twice. Laura helped the steam come out of my ears and I then repaid her the compliment with the toy, then with my mouth and the toy together. She was most appreciative.

She asked me afterwards what had brought that on. I explained that I'd had this dream about Richard and it turned me on so much. To my surprise she started crying. Wracking great sobs that filled me with alarm (to say the least).

When she finally calmed down a little, I asked her what was the matter and she said that it was her great fear that I would tire of her and end up leaving her for a man. The dream had sort of proved it. 

I explained that dreaming about having sex with Richard was something that is only to be expected. We fucked all the time all over the place (a bit like she and I do – I reminded her) because we loved each other so much. I don’t dream about other guys or having sex with anyone but Richard (and occasionally doing it in very public places with Laura, although I didn’t tell her that). If I was thinking of leaving her surely I would have kept quiet about the dream? She sort of got the point.

I told her that I had occasional worries that she’d meet someone more exciting and younger than me and she’d be the one leaving me. We both had a little sob and a cuddle. Finally, before we drifted back off to sleep, she lay snuggled against my breasts and muttered, “If you do try and leave me, I’ll just have to kill you, you know?”

I told her I would the same to her! With the food processor!

The Wayward Daughter.

Friday 27^th June

If you were going to be given a surprise would you want a few hints about what it might be or would you prefer it to be secret until the time it happened?

That was the question I asked my beautiful girl on Friday when we got home from work to find my Mum waiting at my house. (Mum was in on the surprise…) Laura chose the latter so I told her to follow my lead in getting changed then Mum would drive us away. I put on my favourite black dress, the one with the embroidered bodice and ruched bustier. It is lined with skin tone fabric so it looks as though I am naked underneath it! Laura put on the red mini dress she knows I love. It has a tulip shaped shirt and makes her look like a film star.

We piled into Mum’s car and she hit the M1 heading south. Eventually arriving at the very same car park we went to when we visited Nottingham Playhouse earlier in the year. “We are going to see a play!” Laura said.

“No, we are going for a bite to eat,” said Mum. After parking up she led us to a smallish restaurant a few hundred yards away from the car park.

I had a really nice piece of turbot (you don’t often see turbot on a menu) Laura and Mum had scallops. Laura asked a couple more questions about what we were doing but we skirted round the answers telling her she had said she didn’t want to know the surprise until the time so we weren’t going to play 20 questions.

After the meal we strolled across Nottingham’s city centre and finally headed up at the Theatre Royal. Laura read the signage and went “Fille mal gardee? What’s that?”

My Mum said, “It’s Vic here. She has always been a wayward daughter!” Thanks Mum!

I am of the opinion that if you want your children to appreciate something which you like the best way is to start them on it early. I was taken to the theatre as a toddler, to a pantomime (which scared the hell out of me in one section, I add) this fostered my love of going to the theatre. The reason I listen to Classical Music is probably because I was played Mozart in utero and then over and over again as a babe in arms. (Mum had read about Classical Music helping your child’s mental development before it was even born.)

If you want someone to appreciate ballet the very best one ever to take them to see as a child is “La Fille Mal Gardee”. Mum took me to see it in Norwich when I was still a toddler and I have been a visitor to several other versions of it over the years of my childhood and adolescence. I would go so far as to say if you took a little boy to see it (I know I am being horribly sexist in my gender stereotyping here) he would also end up being a ballet lover too!

This isn’t Laura’s first ballet, it is about her fourth or fifth (the last three were with me) but I definitely wanted her to see this one. I do own a copy of it on DVD but I haven’t watched it with her as it bears no relation to seeing the thing in the flesh. This version was by the Birmingham Royal Ballet and it was using the much acclaimed Frederick Ashton choreography. It was wonderful. Funny, touching, energetic, catchy. It was the perfect ballet to bring Laura to as a surprise and to show her how much I had missed her while she was at her Mum and Dad’s.

Mum’s comment that the title referred to me was something she had said as a joke when I was still a pre-teen, maybe I decided to live up (or down) to the billing she had given me. I don’t try to be deliberately wayward but I think my upbringing has made me look at the world and my place in it in a rather different way than most people do. I also think being a Wayward Daughter has made me a much better person that I otherwise would have been.

The Ballet: Nao Sakuma (Lise) and Cesar Morales (Colas) danced very well but to be honest they weren’t a patch on the two dancing the parts on my DVD version -  Carlos Acosta (Colas), Marianela Nuñez (Lise), then again I wouldn't have expected them to be. They were believable and that is all that matters. As always it was Lise’s Mum [Simone – Michael O’Hare] who brought the house down, it is a brilliant part for a male dancer who wants to get away from the more “serious” roles in Classical Ballet. In fact the whole ballet is a good excuse for anyone who wants to escape more “serious” ballets to find a huge comic escape.

There was one gasp out loud moment (even though I knew it was coming) when Cesar balanced Nao on the palm of his hand in a technically awesome lift. I have seen this done quite a few times now but I can still remember my childhood astonishment at the feat. Laura was gobsmacked by it, too!

I can’t mention La Fille without talking about the Clog Dance, possibly the most well-known piece of music from the whole ballet, if not from the whole world of ballet. O’Hare managed to make the complex routine look so simple anyone could do it. That is the mark of a true expert, I feel, making the impossible look achievable by everyone. I enjoyed myself thoroughly, so did Mum and Laura was totally blown away by the whole thing. As a newcomer to the show, everyone is. People think ballet is so stuffy and po-faced. La Fille is neither.

We got back to mine at about midnight and I invited Mum to spend the night rather than driving back to Holmesfield but she wanted to be up and about in her garden in the morning so she declined. Laura waited until I had walked Callie for her shower which we shared. After a tumble in bed before sleeping she told me, “I love you so much!” [Obviously I reciprocated!]

Saturday June 28^th.

We regaled Sarah with tales of the Ballet after our swim this morning. She said it sounded marvellous and wanted to know how long it was on. She also thought it was playing in Sheffield. I had to disabuse her of those two misconceptions and she seemed really disappointed. I said I would look up the BRB website to see if it was going to be playing anywhere else but no luck. I did say she could borrow my DV which made her smile.

When we got home I dug out my Royal Ballet version and we spent almost two hours watching it again. If we had seem the Royal Ballet last night it would have knocked the BRB’s version inot a cocked hat but as we were only seeing it through a small TV rather than being immersed in the whole experience last night’s was definitely better.

We went off into the Peak District next and I took Laura on a circuit from Edale that went across the ridge from Winhill, round to Seal Stones on the eastern edge of Kinder and then over onto the plateau. We lunched, where I had a fortnight ago, at Kinder Downfall, and then did the same orienteering on a bearing across the mass of peaty streams to Grindsbrook. We took much longer than I had because at the bottom of one of the hags I was assaulted by my companion who decided she wanted alfresco sex and wanted it now! We knew the chances of discovery were pretty remote up on the barren top of Deryshire’s highest mountain but there was one point where an enterprising Laura had just managed to hide her hand inside me that we heard voices which seemed to be heading our way.

Instead of stopping what we were doing and covering up, we just stood like rabbits caught in the headlights until we heard the voices recede. Phew.

We didn’t have a meal in the pub, like I had, but we did stop for a pot of tea – which was just what was needed. I then drove us the windy back way to home past the three reservoirs in the Bradfield Valley.

Our evening meal was cooked and ready when we got in and we had a hot chili on one of the hottest days of the year. Mad or what?

Sunday June 29th

Had a lie in until 7.30 this morning. Callie was so disturbed by this alteration to her routine she came up and nudged my ear several times and then pushed her nose under the quilt to nibble my hand! I decided that I had better get up and take her out.

When I got back Laura had got up and broken the first rule of camping (one of Dad’s silly rules, that is) no cooking bacon on a campsite. It drives every other camper mad with desire for bacon. It certainly made me mad for bacon. She had cooked enough for two bacon baps each. Rah rah rah!

Suitably fortified we drove up to Leeds to visit my illustrious brother and family, we had been invited to spend the day with them because the aforementioned brother had snagged my ticket to Hetty Feather and I was a bit miffed to say the least.

I was able to quiz Angela and Peter about the show and they had enjoyed it no end although listening to their garbled and confused accounts did make me wonder if they had both seen the same thing at all! It is fascinating what children will focus on, compared to how adults view things. Jane, for example, gave me a clear plot summary; a description of the set and the characters, the songs and the feel of the whole thing. Children just zoom in on what interests them at the time and ignore the other stuff.

I mentioned Fille Mal Gardee and Jane went into raptures about it and how she had loved seeing at as a girl. I explained how the three of us had gone to Nottingham on Friday to see it. Phil was scathing about travelling to another city to see a show until I mentioned the fact he’d stolen my ticket to see a show in Sheffield! Point to me I think. The little pillock then started moaning that Mum and I always did stuff together and she hardly ever came up to Horsforth. Even Jane came to my defence and told him, it’s different for girls and their Mums. He stopped bleating when we all pulled silly faces at him. I think he does it deliberately to see if I will take the bait. I told him he was just jealous that I had a ballet named after me. He didn’t know what the idiomatic translation of Fille Mal Gardee was. Point number two to me!

We had a super lunch of lamb. It was so sweet and succulent. I even had seconds despite the fact there was a dessert too.

In the afternoon we went to the local reservoir and we messed about on their boat. It is an 18 footer but held us all fairly well, if a little squashed together. Sophie was dropped off at Jane’s mum being too little for sailing. Phil and I haven’t sailed together for ages and we had a whale of a time – we even managed to forget to snipe at each other at every verse end.   

Phil told the tale of how we had taken Dad’s skiff from the University Broad all the way down to Great Yarmouth but then chickened out of going to sea proper. Plus by the time we go there, we’d used up all the diesel and ended up stuck in Gorleston until a very angry Dad had come and collected us. Phil blamed me for the idea and I blamed him. (It was me goading him that had led us to doing it to be honest!)

He is thinking of trading up and getting a sea going yacht which he’ll moor somewhere along the Humber or Ouse. I think he is jealous of Suze and Pete’s 42’ pilot house yacht and is trying to keep up with them. He is stupid enough to think they will be bothered. I rubbed salt in the cut by telling him we’d be out in their boat during the summer, we are going to use their mooring off Rottnest Island for a few days rather than rent a cottage on the island. I thought that would be more fun for Laura.

We left after having a cold collation tea, claiming to have pressing work that we needed to get done by the morning. Never having been to University I guess the older brother can be fooled easily like that, especially if he thinks term is still going at the end of June!

Laura says Phil reminds her a bit of her Dad.  I didn’t know how to respond to that one. At home the only pressing thing we had to do was cuddle on the sofa and listen to the even concert on Radio 3. It was Music of the Great War; quite appropriate for the hundredth anniversary of the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand.

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.