Sunday 7 June 2015

Tattooed hallelujahs.

Summoned this morning early for a hasty driveway-goodbye, as based on yesterday's words and the general mood of the point Caleb has opted to fly to Toronto for almost all of this coming week to celebrate his retirement with his lawyer friends, some of whom he went to school with, some he worked with for years and years. This is his old boys' network, where letting your hair down involves rolling up your cuffs two whole times, loosening your tie but never actually taking it off and having that second whiskey. They will play golf and test drive each others' cars and talk women and song and it'll be boring to onlookers but great bonding for them. They're all sugar daddies to varying degrees. He's the only truly good-looking one though.

I presented in Hello Kitty shorts and a Rush Snakes & Arrows tour tank top, all bangs and knees. His whole cold attitude crumbled like a cookie when he saw me.

You look rested. 

I am. You? 

Didn't sleep. He pulls out a roll of bills and two cards. For emergencies. Both cards are black. (What sort of emergency will I have? I'm wondering.) I'll be back Friday night. Just need to go play a little golf and see some old faces. I do need you to rebook a meeting I had made for Wednesday. The info is on my desk, if you wouldn't mind. 

I don't mind. 

Thank you. Rebook for a week from now. And maybe by the time I come back the pool will be ready and we can have a late-night swim. 

Maybe. Maybe I'll throw you a Welcome Home pool party. 

That would be good to look forward to. 

Do you want to come up and see Henry before you go?

Let him sleep. I'll call him after lunch. 

Okay. 

Stay safe, Neamhchiontach.

He got into the jeep and PJ saluted me as they headed up the driveway. The Devil blew a kiss which I didn't return. Once they were out of sight I jumped up and punched the air with both fists.

YES! 

From the front porch Lochlan laughed, because he followed me right out the door this morning but I didn't hear him. A ninja in boxers and a Rush t-shirt from the same tour.

Well now, Peanut. Six days with only ourselves to blame for whatever happens next.