Perran and Carenza were revising hard for their January exams, or so I thought until I spotted them draped cat-like across the sofa with a laptop. They were idly flicking between different back numbers of Made in Chelsea.
Apparently everybody needs some R&R,
“Oh, and could you make us a cup of tea too Mum,”
“And a biscuit. A biscuit would be good.”
As I returned carrying a grudging tray of weak tea and unlovely biscuits, Carenza gave a squeal.
“I just saw my email. Something’s changed. It must be Durham. Durham! Can I just…?”
“Oi,” said Perran, “Lucy was just about to say that thing about getting in her grill.”
But even after he allowed her access to UCAS Track, there was a hitch - Carenza’s ID and password were on the family PC which takes an eternity to chug into life. As we hunted through scraps of paper, I had a feeling of déjà vu (“I know I wrote them down somewhere after that business with Perran.”). If we find it this tough to get into a user-friendly system like UCAS, I fear my children will never make good cat burglars.
However, eventually, it was from Durham, and it was an offer.
I retrieved my tray of cold tea and unpleasant biscuits and returned to the kitchen – this was an occasion for hob nobs!