“Faster, please, Beatrice. Tempus fugit!”
"Dude, it may be icy, but it's a wheelchair you're in, not a bob-sleigh! And we've still got 30 minutes to get there - chill!"
In anticipation of the annual surf trip, I am always conscious of my Christmas Day alcohol intake. Each year, I decline Kian’s offer of a nightcap.
‘Won’t be long Mary love.’ I called goodbye like I always do and pulled the front door shut. I walk through Clissold Park most afternoons after lunch, have done for twenty years or so...
My mother and I had a tacit agreement not to make eye contact during school hours. When the clip clopping of her Headteacher high heels stopped at my classroom door I looked down at my desk, suddenly absorbed in long division.
All of us on Mabson Road know Mr Tanaka. Or rather (for it is very different), we all know who he is, this Japanese gentleman, and where he lives.
The cottage is as they left it. Each time they return he holds his breath, as if it might have disappeared in their absence. But the crumbling sheep barn is still there...