“What a beautiful person he is! Happy day?xxx” At the theatre, I’ve turned my phone on during the interval, and can see Seb’s message. The ‘beautiful person’ referred to is, of course, the fluffy monster. Sent Seb a couple of fluffy-monster-photos earlier in the day.
Can’t reply though because in the ten minutes before the start of the second half:
1. Have to go to the loo.
2. Must look out for Dad who has gone to the bar alone, find him and then make sure he doesn’t wander off or fall down the stairs.
3. Must turn phone off again before the second half.
Switching phone on when I arrive home after the performance, there’s another message from Seb: “Hope you had a nice day anyway. Buzz you tomorrow.”
“Was just at theatre,” I reply.
“Sweet dreams xxx” Seb says.
“You too darling,” I say.
This evening will speak to my Seb. Miss him. The weekend seems so long ago now.
It’s a beautiful hot, sunny day. In exciting news: for the first time in three years, have a tan. Look so much prettier with brown arms.
Somehow have missed the first two episodes of Springwatch, and must catch some of it tonight. Have been looking forward to it for months and haven’t seen any of the series yet. And, of course, there’s the French Open. Ah the joy of a gin and slimline tonic in front of the tennis, after a hard day slaving away at my Important Work.
Am in possession of four enormous artichokes, just purchased from the market. Can’t wait to eat one.
Happy Wednesday everyone!
*2013. By Elizabeth Flynn. Murder mystery set at Wimbledon tennis tournament.