Playing With Bones*

“Hello?” I say, answering the flat phone at seven o’clock last night.

“Hello, my lovely,” Seb says.

“My darling,” I say, chopping up a courgette for The Omelette.  “How were the exams?”

“Fine,” Seb says.  “They weren’t much of a challenge, and I just have to pass them.  The pass mark is pretty low.”

“Oh, good,” I say.  Finding an exam straightforward is not always good, of course, I think.  Sometimes it means that you haven’t understood what is being asked of you.  But let’s hope that he’s right and that he’s done well.  At least he managed to turn up on the right day for them, which is the main thing.

“What are you doing this evening, my lovely,” Seb says.

“Making supper, having a bath, watching Autumnwatch,”  I say, chopping up some cauliflower and putting it into the pan.  “Wish you were here and that I could cuddle you and…”

“We can cuddle each other over the telephone,” Seb says.

“Sending you a telephonic cuddle then,” I say.  “It’s not the same though.”  He’s so far away.  Just want to see him and for us to be together.

“We’ll see each other soon, my lovely,” Seb says.  “I’ve still got to finish my project about the limpets and I’ve got more important exams in December and…”

“I wish I could just jump on a train and visit you,” I say, pouring some cumin seeds over the cauliflower.   “But I’ve got the office tomorrow and…”

“I know, my lovely,” Seb says.

 

I’ve got a Romanesco cauliflower in my bag and can’t wait to get home and cook him.

The attached photo is the planting at a pub near my office.

Happy Tuesday everyone!
*2009.  By Kate Ellis.  Detective novel.

 

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