Monday July 26th

Day 96

Today in that after-the-party-is-over feeling, I pack away slabs of lemon polenta cake in the freezer and shake lavender biscuit crumbs from the tin.

A dear friend and I sit in a shady tea garden with tall glasses of raspberry and mango smoothie on the table between us and exchange the recent missing months of our lives and loves.

I cut up a pineapple for my father, sitting opposite him with the chopping board on my lap so we can still talk. The juice dribbles onto my jeans and makes a damp patch on the carpet.

At home I toss potatoes and carrots in olive oil and flakey salt and put then in the oven to roast.

The pussy cat turns away from his food bowl and looks at me as if I intend to poison him with his usually favourite tuna.

My husband lays out a mosaic of papers on the office carpet, searching for accounting errors to satisfy the taxman.

And all this time I try not to think about the anaesthetic needles which the podiatrist will stick in my toes tomorrow.