Long silence where I hoped the sentiment would be reciprocated. I eventually caved.
"Are you going to miss me?" I spoke tentatively.
"Er....No!" A replied.
"Oh that's good, that's good," I mumbled just a teeny weeny bit surprised with the answer, but also pleased that she is so relaxed about me going away for 10 day, yes 10 days. TEN DAYS.
As they sat in front of Cbeebies I cooked, cleaned, prepared, packed, wrote long lists of the incredibly complicated lives of the children - for him. I sorted their advent calenders out, cleaned out the fish, paid the gas bill, put the last load of washing on, showered and de-fuzzed, packed, checked my passport, ticket, passport, ticket, passport....
For tomorrow I return to Africa. To Nairobi to see E, my lovely friend from university. E moved to Africa to play polo, and work, but mainly for polo. So I am going to visit her to play polo too, and drink G & T's and catch up on lost time and probably giggle about times past. I can't frigging wait except it's not as easy as I thought it would be.
I'm going to Africa, that's a very long way from my little chickens and him. It's full of scary animals and crazy politics. I might catch a disease or get mugged. God, these things never used to bother me but fear has entered my life as I gallop towards 40, but probably mainly because I have a family now. I want to stay safe for them. I need to stay safe.
At the dinner table, as I cajoled P into eating, I asked, "Are you going to miss me?"
"NO!" came the very definite answer.
Right then, I will stop all this silly worrying and jolly well go and have the time of my life.
Are you ready E? Are you ready?
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