Family life II

The Time Traveller (for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was expounding a recondite matter to us.

A washing machine is a wonderful thing - so much more effective than a sink of tepid water. I leave my clothes hanging in my mother's bedroom and make the spare room presentable for tonight's guest.

Traffic on the Westway is bad, apparently, and they arrive later than expected. While moussaka heats in the oven, I replace the shower head hose. By combining the new hose with the old washer, I succeed in neutralising the high pressure leak.

After lunch, I retrace my steps of last night, to Charing Cross station. I'm going to High Brooms, but today these services only start from London Bridge. An hour later and I'm in the car with Tim heading to their house.

Karen has a sore throat. Eva and Sam are occupied with trampolines and electrical devices. We drink a beer. In the garden, the sun is fading and a chill is creeping in. Tim shows me the greenhouse, ineffectual in its curtain of trees, used instead as a wood store. Outside it, a bin of mud is resolutely refusing to dry.

Tim fires up the gas BBQ and cooks sausages and steak. There are salads and baked potatoes a-plenty. Supper is a lively and convivial affair. And then the boys go to the Allotment - a pub.