Monday May 16, 2005
Dolly gave Graham a rapturous welcome home when we walked into the house this evening. Then she gave him a sound telling off for being away. And a little later she went and hid under a bed so she could sort it all out in her head. Or is that me, doing the anthropomorphism thing?
Whatever, both Dolly and I have made it quite plain in our own fashion that we we’re glad our home alone week is over and done.
The tone and pace of the house picked up immediately. Straight away, after a cup of tea and an initial unpacking operation, stacking the washer up with a week’s linen, he was off out to cut the grass. Then, hoping I wouldn’t see, he whisked around the house with a duster, wiping up all the dust I had missed. Finally, he replaced the two light bulbs that’d failed while he was away, fixed the curtain hanger in the main bedroom that’d come adrift, and passed right round the house, snagging, fixing and putting to rights.
By the time I’d prepared and served our dinner, he was done.
“That was an astonishing and highly creditable performance,” I said.
“Don’t be silly. When you’re selling houses every tiny thing matters.”
“But it looks as though it’s sold already,” I said, referring to the voice message the agent had left on the machine while I was picking Graham up from the station.
“Well, yes, but I want them to tell us the full story tomorrow. We’re not taking the place off the market unless the buyer has a firm offer on their property, and I expect the agent to keep selling hard until then.”
“Fine. It’s much better having the two of us in on the act. You can’t do the good-cop-bad-cop routine on your own.”
And so life has settled down once more in the little house by the fens. Graham’s determined that our remaining time here should be as short as possible. Dolly and I are determined to go with the flow. It works for us.