A domestic hiccup

On Sunday evening, both of us in high spirits, and keen to meet up again, had done so.  Alexander happened to be in north London visiting a friend and on leaving at ten pm had texted me and the upshot of the conversation saw me picking him up from south Hampstead station.  It was mad since we’d only said our goodbyes that morning but this is a mad stage we’re in – whatsapping into the early hours when apart and making love several times into the night when we are together.  So that was the headiness of last week when all at home were in good spirits and happy enough for me.

In the week we continued our midnight conversations until Thursday when we walked about the National Gallery looking at Caravaggios and then headed onto the Strand before finishing up at the India Club.  It was the same old decor, with Gandhi and Nehru looking down at the diners and we came home merry and happy.

The weekend saw some difficulty with one offspring and this prompted Alexander to show tremendous patience and kindness – by not reacting and then relating some of his own domestic trials in an effort to offer me some distraction from my own.   I feel exhausted after all that has happened but am determined to continue seeing A despite some hostility from my own son.

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