‘So, tell me what those ways are. I’m thinking we need a sensible list that we can refer to, otherwise I might accidentally punish you for something you don’t think is fair, or I might let something slip that you really want help with. Make sense?’
‘Yes. God. What is with you? You’re like the man with the plan. I never thought it’d take you this way.’
He put down the pen, looking mildly injured.
‘I’m doing this for you.’
‘I know. OK. Well, the main thing was my temper. I get irritable and snap and lash out at you for things that aren’t your fault. I want to stop doing that. But counting to ten and all that doesn’t work. So that’s number one.’
‘Right.’ He started scribbling in his book. ‘I’m going to add the one about not eating. And not taking care of yourself in general. Getting enough sleep, not working two hours past hometime, that kind of thing.’
‘You know how it is,’ I protested.
‘No. My shift ends and I head for the locker room. No exceptions. It’s a good working rule and worth keeping.’
‘But I don’t have a new shift coming to relieve me.’
‘No, but you’re not superhuman and you need to know when to stop.’
I huffed a bit, but he had a point. I’d worn myself down to a tearful nub last Christmas and spent the holidays in bed with an exhaustion-aggravated bout of flu.
‘Go on then,’ I sighed.
‘Anything else you want to add?’ he asked.
‘I can’t think of anything specific. Can we add to the list as we go along? As things occur to us?’
‘Of course.’ He shut the notebook. ‘Now, would you lay the table for me, love? And after that, I’m going to type all this up. I’m going to make a proper contract type of thing. A list of rules.’
‘Rules for me?’
‘Yes. Rules for you.’
‘How formal,’ I said with a light shudder.
‘I want to do this right.’
‘I know you do,’ I said. ‘I should have known you would.’
1 August
I’ve followed the rules pretty well over the last few days. Summer holidays are coming up, which has kept my mood upbeat and my temper sweet.
A couple of times I’ve almost fallen off the wagon – a few minutes late here and there, nothing more – but Dan has just uttered a word of warning and I’ve jumped into line.
It’s exciting. I like the feeling of being on a tightrope, trying to keep my eyes ahead and my head level. I mustn’t fall!
But of course nobody can walk a tightrope forever, and my balance is getting very, very wobbly.
I got home yesterday and found one of those ‘While You Were Out’ delivery notes on the doormat. Always annoying, at the best of times, and I’d had a hard day so I swore at it as I read the instruction to come and collect it from the post office.
‘What’s wrong?’
Dan was right behind me, frowning over my shoulder.
‘Oh. That’s for me. Can you pick it up tomorrow?’
I tutted.