Please leave a message after the beep.
If you’re wise, you’ll meet me at the bar for a drinky-poo.
Oh, this is Claire.
The afternoon sun woke me up. I was sweating through my t-shirt. The dog was asleep on the floor, breathing heavily. He probably needs to pee.
A voicemail: If you’re wise, you’ll meet me at the bar for a drinky-poo. Oh, this is Claire.
As if I wouldn’t know it was her. Ok, a drinky-poo it is. Henry, wake up.
The dog looks up at me like I am probably one of the craziest people on the planet.
Get up. Drinky-poos.
I pull off my soaked shirt. In the mirror, I see I have a couple of red dots. Heat rash. I’m glad I’ve lost those couple of pounds. I need more sun.
Quick shower, a rustle of the hair and Henry and I are off, we’re out the door, but first through the park so he can release his bladder contents and I can have a look at the mom’s over by the play area.
The old men are in the square. Their hats signal that there is still a bit of wind, watch out. Claire is at the bar, I can see her before she sees me but Henry barks and she looks up in her Persol sunglasses she got last summer.
Claire: I ordered for you.