SATURDAY, AUGUST 3, 2013
EVENING
Tom is meeting some of his army buddies for adrink and Evie’s down for her nap. I’m sitting in thekitchen, doors and windows closed despite the heat.
The rain of the past week has stopped at last; nowit’s stiflingly close.
I’m bored. I can’t think of anything to do. I fancygoing shopping, spending a bit of money on myself,but it’s hopeless with Evie. She gets irritable and Iget stressed. So I’m just hanging round the house. Ican’t watch television or look at a newspaper. I don’twant to read about it, I don’t want to see Megan’sface, I don’t want to think about it.
How can I not think about it when we’re here, justfour doors away?
I rang around to see if anyone was up for aplaydate, but everyone’s got plans. I even called mysister, but of course you’ve got to book her at leasta week in advance. In any case, she said she wastoo hungover to spend time with Evie. I felt ahorrible pang of envy then, a longing for Saturdaysspent lying on the sofa with the newspapers and ahazy memory of leaving the club the night before.
Stupid, really, because what I’ve got now is a milliontimes ............