Though she rarely admitted it, I knew she was as fed up as I was. She went through to the boys’ room and I heard the usual protests as she tried to get Oscar up and ready for school. ‘No Mum, please, not the curtains!’ I heard him begging, articulating my own thoughts from a few minutes earlier, but then his protests died as he too realised that opening the curtains made no difference to the light levels in the room. I heard Juliet’s footsteps returning and hurriedly pulled myself out of bed, staring out of the window as an almost theatrical curtain of rain glided across the tufty lawn. I saw a few dead leaves blow across before a gust of wind beat the rain so hard against the window that the view was totally obscured, and for a moment I had the impression of being underwater. Reluctantly I went downstairs to join in the daily panic of getting Oscar off to school. As the minutes counted down to the school bus’s arrival we charged around with increasing urgency, finding trainers for football, lost homework, packed lunch and jacket,scarf and hat. With four minutes to go I found myself pleading with Oscar to put his shoes on faster.
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