‘Bakewell tarts,’ Dad says when I answer the phone. ‘What about them?’ I say. ‘I’ve made one.’ ‘For us?’ ‘Yes. A big one. Can you pick it up? Before I eat it all.’ I promise I’ll be straight round and hang up. ‘Chris,’ I shout downstairs to where my husband is hard at work. ‘Stop…
It’s Monday evening, almost seven o’clock, when I go upstairs to play my saxophone. On the TV downstairs, the prime minister is briefing the nation about rising coronavirus cases, local lockdowns, and the three-tier system. I step into my book room and close the door behind me. What the PM failed to realise when he…
‘Do not get me anything with seventy written on it,’ Mum says. ‘I don’t want reminding that I’m so old.’ ‘It’s your birthday,’ I say. ‘I don’t want a fuss.’ ‘You do.’ ‘I don’t.’ I sigh. Whenever we mention anything about her forthcoming big birthday, the conversation always goes the same way. No to balloons.…
‘How’s the new house?’ my auntie asks when I meet her at the garden centre for a brew. ‘It’s still standing,’ I say, thinking about the long snagging list that is getting longer by the day. ‘That’s what you get with new builds,’ she tells me. ‘One of my friends bought a new house, and…
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‘Bakewell tarts,’ Dad says when I answer the phone. ‘What about them?’ I say. ‘I’ve made one.’ ‘For us?’ ‘Yes. A big one. Can you pick it up? Before I eat it all.’ I promise I’ll be straight round and hang up. ‘Chris,’ I shout downstairs to where my husband is hard at work. ‘Stop…
My mum and sister are sitting at the kitchen table, knives in hand, frantically carving when I arrive.
It’s Monday evening, almost seven o’clock, when I go upstairs to play my saxophone. On the TV downstairs, the prime minister is briefing the nation about rising coronavirus cases, local lockdowns, and the three-tier system. I step into my book room and close the door behind me. What the PM failed to realise when he…
‘Do not get me anything with seventy written on it,’ Mum says. ‘I don’t want reminding that I’m so old.’ ‘It’s your birthday,’ I say. ‘I don’t want a fuss.’ ‘You do.’ ‘I don’t.’ I sigh. Whenever we mention anything about her forthcoming big birthday, the conversation always goes the same way. No to balloons.…
‘How’s the new house?’ my auntie asks when I meet her at the garden centre for a brew. ‘It’s still standing,’ I say, thinking about the long snagging list that is getting longer by the day. ‘That’s what you get with new builds,’ she tells me. ‘One of my friends bought a new house, and…