When a loved one is away, you go about as normal, don’t you? We’ve had one of Libs’ mates to stay and I was making pizza (not as good as Andy’s) and pootling about, baking cookies, doing laundry, hoping the recovered arms of the sofa really do match the rest of it, etc.
And then it got dark and my phone still hadn’t rung with a text.
You know how it goes. At first you think, ‘Maybe it’s not dark yet, up on the Ridgeway.’ And then, about half an hour later, you think, ‘Maybe he ran into a flesh-eating psychopath,’ having already gone through, ‘leg broken in rabbit hole incident’ and ‘lost solar charger’. My phone gets only intermittent reception and it’s worse downstairs (old house, thick walls, O2), so I also thought, ‘perhaps when we go upstairs it will come.’
It didn’t. It didn’t come at 10:00, 12:00, 2:00, or 4:00. But at 6:15, when I’d given up on sleeping, I heard the familiar ting-ting.
Two texts at once. One saying goodnight and can I pick him up at Avebury tomorrow (today) and one saying, ‘Why didn’t you respond to my text?’ How blessedly irritating…still married, then…