Our romantic highlights include building flat-pack furniture, checking floors and dimmer switches
Armed with latex gloves and a mask, Charlotte Cripps heads off to her dad’s house, where he is self-isolating, to deliver provisions but when she can’t find her keys her mind wanders back to happier times
I’m just off to my dad’s where he is self-isolating. There’s only so much TV one man can watch and I worry for his sanity. And of course, mine. He wants four green peppers, a Radio Times, and a new landline phone that works in case the mobile networks go down again. He’s set up with a work laptop – not bad for an 87-year-old – but he needs a resident technician to help with all the computer hitches.
I leg it to High Street Ken where I can get him a phone and my hands are raw from all the hand washing and gel I’m applying every five minutes. I’ve always acted as his travel companion/travel agent/secretary and general dogsbody but how am I going to manage it as a working single mum?
I have to let myself into his house while he waits in the garden where we talk three metres apart. I’m wearing latex gloves and a face mask that cost me £2.99 from my local chemist. I can’t take any risks. But I can’t find the keys to his house. It’s Ok I can ring the doorbell and tell him to back off through the letterbox, but if there is an emergency I need them.