A clean break

We are up by half pas six, as Friday is my morning to take Louis to school, so after breakfast and a shower, we leave the house by ten past eight. My decision from yesterday evening feels right this morning and I shall tell Pip after I have taken Dolly and Teddy out. I arrive at Sarah's house for twenty past eight and give Louis his card, but tell him not to open it until tomorrow. Then we complete his dressing and set off for school, apart from his school bag, he is also carrying a large bag full of sweets to give to his classmates, in order to celebrate his birthday. As ever, Norman takes his time to select the precise spot to deposit "treasure" and fortunately it is next to a waste bin down New Walk. After this morning ritual, we are able to make better progress down Bleach Yard and past the stables, Louis quizzing me about matters related to football as we walk. He is far more knowledgable about the teams and players in the Premier League, to which Hull have just been promoted, than I am. I expect playing with swap cards and the other boys at school will do that, if you are motivated. After giving Louis a hug at the school gate, Norman and I turn around and retrace our steps back to Sarah's, it is a breezy but fair morning, the wind rustling the leaves along the boulevard as we approach the car. Dolly and Teddy are waiting for me and eager to go, when we arrive at Two Riggs and jump into the car and say hello to Normy, before we drive to the Westwood. I shall miss the terriers and secretly hope that Pip may decide that they are too much hassle for her and give one, or both, to me, after a while. On the common there are more and more young bullocks, mostly a lovely brown colour and they follow the herd, occasionally showing signs of friskiness and challenging each other to trials of strength. We arrive back at Cherry around a quarter to eleven, I leave Norman in the Chrysler, take the terriers to the kitchen via the back door and then knock and enter the front room. Pip is watching TV, as usual, I tell her I have decided not to come any more and that she will have to make other arrangements for the garden and dogs, she says, "Good!" And then launches into a defence of yesterday's behaviour, which I cut short, as it adds nothing to the decision. I tell her not to ring me, as a complete break is for the best and to contact me by letter, if there is anything that she needs. I have just renewed her car insurance and tell her I will post it too her and enclose my address, in the event she has mislaid it. For the first time since I have left, she seems a little taken aback, but there is no more to be said, so I leave. As I drive back to Tickton, it feels like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and I realise that I have been spending so much time looking after Pip, that I have been little more than camping in my bungalow in Tickton and resolve to make it more like home. When we get back, I hang the picture of the Japanese ladies from Leslie's house in the hall and another picture that I found in a charity shop, a sort of South American, ethnic, "Tree of the World", in the kitchen. Outside the weather has brightened, so I take my bike from the garage and cycle to the Leisure Centre, down the side of the River Hull and then along the banks of Beverley Beck, where squadrons of ducks are weaving iIn and out of the trailing weeping willows. The pool is quiet again and feeling energised, I complete a 2,000m medley programme, but break the 400m in each stroke, into 4 x 100m, with a little more pace about them, except, of course, the butterfly which I limit to 8 x 50m. Afterwards I have my usual tea and a teacake in the cafe, Danny, one of the cooks, is on his lunch break and I tease him that he hasn't made any scones for ages. Danny's scones are magnificent and I much prefer them to the teacakes. He tells me he has been busy, but promises to make some next week. After my snack, I cycle to Tim's hairdresser's down Windmill Walk, for my monthly trim and exchange bad jokes with Barry, who is cutting my hair today. "Is it very challenging?" I ask, "keeping up to date with sport, politics and a stand up routine, as well as cutting hair?" "More than you can ever know", he replies, "this isn't just a job, its also vocational social work!"  I cycle home and make dinner, which we eat in the garden, the weather fining up at the end of the day. Later, after taking Norman for his spin round the village, I finally finish off my ironing, while listening to question time on the radio. To bed for ten.