Tears Of The Giraffe*

“What time is it?” Seb says.   Turning to look at my watch, I say “it’s six fifty.  I’ve just woken up and am with my darling Seb. “I’d better get up and help my mum with moving some chairs,” he says. Oh good, I think.  He doesn’t want to go back to sleep.  I’m […]

Blood On The Line*

“Excuse me, I’ve booked a ticket for the 3.45 but, um, am I allowed to catch an earlier train because…” I trail off.  Because I’m an hour early because I’m always an hour early and really, I prefer to be moving otherwise I’m alone with the voices that shout ‘you’re going to miss the train/ […]

The Killing Pool*

Sitting on sofa, in turquoise towel (not mine), paralysed by indecision, exhaustion and torpor.  Need to: 1.  Wash all the towels: this one; my mint green one which Seb used when I quite clearly said “you can use the bright blue one”; my hand towels which keep drenching in night sweat. 2.  Put on a […]

High Anxiety*

I’m going to try to describe Anxiety.  It’s much misunderstood I think.   There’s a wren flying around the house, trying to get out and she can’t and you’re chasing after her, trying to coax her towards the door and you’ve got to got to got to chase her out because you’re off on holiday […]