“How was it darling?” I text Seb at 2.34pm. The exam started at midday so must be finished by now, I think.
“Not too bad, not sure really,” he replies. “Should pass. How are you my lovely?”
“Am OK,” I say.
The phone rings. It’s Seb.
“Hello my darling,” I say.
“Hello my lovely,” he says.
“So tell me,” I say. “How’d it go?”
“Alright,” he says.
“What did they ask you?” I say.
“Well there were thirty questions,” Seb says.
“Oh OK,” I say. “Things you’d revised or…”
“Some of them,” he says. “Obviously it would have been better if I’d done more work but I reckon I’ve passed.”
“Good,” I say. “Well, just one more exam to go, which is great.”
“I don’t mind exams,” he says.
“That’s good,” I say.
“So what have you done today, my lovely?” He says.
“Well my skin on my chest has flared up,” I say. “The radiologist put white micropore tape over my scars, rather than pink, and I’m allergic to the white one – must be a different glue – and so my whole chest is inflamed and itchy and we were out shopping and…”
“Oh no,” Seb says, sounding concerned. “Didn’t he know to use the pink tape?”
“Probably not,” I say. “Anyway – we went to Boots and they justhad the white tape, but when we got home I found the pink one – thank G-d, so I can put that on now. My chest is all itchy though.”
“My poor lovely,” Seb says.
“On the plus side, we got some new chairs for the flat,” I say. “To replace all the broken ones and…”
“Sorry about that,” Seb says. “I broke at least one of them.”
“It’s OK darling,” I say. Seb just sat down on a chair in the flat once and it crumbled beneath him. Brother did the same. “Hopefully the new chairs will be stronger. They’re much more comfortable anyway.”
“I’ll be careful,” Seb says.
“I’m going to let you get on with your work,” I say. “My friend is coming round and I haven’t started either of my two blogs or made my gin cocktail for Ginuary.”
“OK my lovely, speak tomorrow,” Seb says.
Argh my chest is still insanely itchy. Have put on the pink micropore tape now but the allergic reaction is horrible!
Happy Thursday everyone!
*1975. By Dean Kootz writing as K.R. Dwyer. “An innocent man has been turned into a walking time bomb. In 4 days he will kill 100,000 people.”