The rest of the day was taken up with chores and looking after my two little patients and Stella’s hypochondria. Life was mundane and I was missing Simon, for all his faults, he loved me and made me feel special. My two little angels loved and made me feel special too, but now they were preventing me from visiting Tom.

I took Stella up a cup of tea as she was too ill to come and get it herself. She was lying on her bed painting her finger nails, mine were getting ragged from all the housework.

“Tea?” I said taking the mug into her room.

“Yeah, just put it on the bedside cupboard.”

“Tom is not going to get any visitors today, least, not from here.”

“Oh I expect the university will send someone, to check he’s still on the payroll.”

“I take it, you’re not going?”

“Oh no, my back aches terribly.”

“So does mine from washing out bedding in the bath and vacuuming.”

“Yes, sorry I can’t help with the chores.”

“Never mind, you’ll have a full time job soon enough with Puddin’.”

“Ah, but you’ll help me, won’t you?”

“Will I? I’ve got two to look after of my own, enjoy your tea.” I left before the second shoe dropped.

Downstairs, I fumed silently doing the ironing while watching over my two cherubs. Mima was sleeping but Trish was watching me with concentration.

“Mummy, why are you ironing that shirt again?”

I glanced down, she was quite right, I’d ironed dumped it in the wrong pile and done it again, I was so cross with Stella. “Oh, silly me, I was day dreaming. Do you want to try some ironing?”

“Oh yes please, Mummy.” Like lambs to the slaughter? Wait until you have to do it every week.

I had couple of pillow cases to do and after standing her on a chair, I showed her what I did with the first one and folded it and finished it. She was a quick student, and seemed able to follow my instruction without endangering herself with the hot iron, which belched steam every so often to remind her. She’d had a go, and I told her she could do some more when I next did some, but that she was to promise me not to do it without me, until she was at least twelve or thirteen–by then she will do most things to avoid it.

Mima was still asleep, and I got out a book I’d bought for them a week or two ago, it was a reading book, a primer–one that helped children to learn to read. I was delighted that Trish had done some earlier learning and I didn’t have to start from scratch. We spent about fifteen minutes with her reading to me, which I deemed was long enough for her to concentrate.

I was just going off to the kitchen to make some drinks, when Stella emerged down the stairs. “Oh, hello,” I said to her as much in surprise as anything. “More tea?”

“Ah, no. I’m popping in to see Tom, any messages?”

“If I’d known, I’d have got the girls to help me bake him a cake.” She gave me a look of disdain, which I secretly enjoyed. She had such a shock coming, it would be like an earthquake. I thought I might let her flounder for a bit before I helped her out, though at times she seemed too thick to learn from experience.

Stella left and I was just carrying the drinks from the kitchen when Trish came running and shouting, “Mummy, Mummy, come quickly, Mima is being sick again.” I shoved the tray on an occasional table which wasn’t intended for such use and ran into the room.

Mima was lying on her back and trying to vomit, which could be very dangerous, she could choke or inhale the corrosive muck which can lead to nasty chest infections and lung damage.

I grabbed and turned her over on her face, she squealed in fright but threw up over my lap and the carpet, Trish jumped back like it was lighted petrol. Okay, so I’d have a nasty smelly mess to clean up, but not organise a child’s funeral. The latter, I could not have borne without feeling a total failure for the rest of my life. Thank God, yeah the one I don’t believe in, for Trish.

I held Mima to me as she cried pitifully, and thanked Trish for helping me keep her safe. She did a pirouette well out of range of Mima’s projectile vomit. Once she’d settled down, I took her upstairs and washed and changed her, then washed and changed myself, then having her carefully seated surrounded with cushions draped in bath towels, I got the upholstery and carpet cleaner and started to scrub the sofa and the carpet. It took me an hour, Mima had fallen asleep sitting up and Trish was watching the traffic go past from the window. My tea had long since gone cold, but I didn’t dare make another pot, for the moment.

“Tom is coming home next week, all being well,” called Stella as she passed the dining room door, “What’s that funny smell?”

“Mima was sick everywhere,” said Trish dancing about the hallway, whatever bug she’d had, it had passed or hadn’t properly got her yet. Peculiarly, Stella didn’t wait to talk, she practically ran up the stairs despite her ungainly shape. If I’d sent Trish after her, I wondered if she would have reached running speed? I was getting really wicked.

Mima managed to eat a little jelly and ice cream, which Trish helped me make. Stella and I had grilled Scottish salmon with a green salad, which I made mostly of watercress, with cucumber, spring onion and celery all chopped in with the watercress. I did some new potatoes with a knob of butter over them. The salad I dressed with my own vinaigrette recipe, taught me by my mum.

I took Stella’s up to her while Trish watched Mima in her high chair. Usually she was very good, if told not to move she didn’t, except to jettison things from the tray. But she ate her jelly and ice cream and had a drink of milk, so she was getting some nourishment. Trish wasn’t too keen on the smell of the fish, so I did her some French toast, which she gobbled down with some tomato ketchup smothering much of it.

“How is Tom?” I asked Stella.

“He’s looking okay, he sends his love and says he can’t wait to get back to work, he wondered if you could speak to Pippa about this.” She handed me a piece of paper, which I read and stuffed in my pocket.

“It’s an order for some equipment, some of the microscopes need replacing, he’s just making sure he spends his budget.”

“What do they do with the old ones?”

“I’ll get Neal to look me out a good one and bring it home, as I’ll be using it for my teaching stuff, it’s hardly theft, and if they like, they can have it back if ever I leave. I’ll sign a receipt thing, so it’ll all be above board.”

“Can’t you just take one, who’s going to know?”

“Firstly, I will; secondly, if ever they were to search the house for anything else, and found it, you can guess the consequences. They sometimes sell off some of them to students, but not usually staff.”

“How much is a new one?”

“Depends upon what you buy, but Becks are couple of grand each I suppose.”

“Bloody hell, we had Beck ones when I did my degree, they don’t take much care of them.”

“They’re pretty robust, which is why we get them, undergrads are sometimes heavy handed, I also want one of the binocular mics, they’re brilliant for analysing droppings and owl pellets.”

“Ooh, Cathy, do you mind, I’m going to eat my tea.”

I left her, but didn’t mind at all, I’ve eaten sandwiches while soaking owl pellets in a water dish, teasing out the bones from the assorted gunge of fur and feathers, depending on what the bird has been eating. In cities, it’s often starlings and pigeons, snatched silently from roof top roost sites. In the countryside, it’s usually small furry things, including the odd dormouse. I’ve found dormouse bones twice.

I went back down to my charges, Mima looked much better and Trish was making silly faces and noises to amuse her. I lifted her out of the chair and after asking them to play quietly–not run about too much–I ate my salad. The fish and potatoes were rather cold by then, but it was still quite edible.

Then, after cleaning up, I took the girls upstairs and after bathing them, Mima first, then Trish, I towelled them dry and dressed them for bed. It was my turn to read to them and to my shame, I fell asleep whilst reading the story of the princess and the pea. Sorry, but the plot doesn’t hold me like it used to.

Once the kids were asleep, I had a warm bath myself and went to bed and zonked straight away, trying to remember what I’d done with the note from Stella, but was too tired to care too much.