Perran and Carenza moved off to rent a house with friends Zac
and Ella three months ago now.
It was the same week that we buried Nigel’s father and we
could almost hear the grinding sound of the generations rolling slowly over.
The twins are less than twenty miles from us, but it’s in
London.
We are unlikely to drive there because, as we discovered on
moving day, the traffic wardens are super-alert. Like polar bears who can smell a seal from
half a mile away, even when it’s beneath a meter of ice. Not that the polar
bears issue seals with tickets – their paws are too big to work the
machine. But I digress.
The public transport links are good. But why would they want to come out to St
Albans? What for? Their part of London is full of exciting
things to do and favourite friends to do them with.
Nigel and I have discovered that if we present ourselves in
London after work with tickets for a play or exhibition and a table booked for
dinner, the twins show up looking smart and make entertaining company.
But I am after a more sustainable relationship.
I am developing ways in which to lure them home to us. We have nice garden to sit in, whereas the
twins’ nearest open ground is a prison exercise yard (that’s how come they
could afford to rent in that area). We
have a warm wood-burning stove and
decent home-cooking. Surely that will be
enough….
As long as they don’t expect us to be polite to them or make
intelligent conversation all will be well.
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