Where is everyone? It’s tumbleweed-tastic right now. School holidays of course, so work-wise loads of people are off with the kids. We’re in a weird in-between world where William’s finished school and James is about to go into sixth form. It feels as though they’ve been off for years rather than weeks. Rumplestiltskins living in their garrets surrounded by festering middens of dirty clothes strewn haphazardly across their floors or draped over the nearest chair.

This morning I had to dig poor Bagpuss out of a mouldering pile of t-shirts he’d been buried under.

It’s A-Level results day. Eddie and I have been trying not to worry about it. And failing completely. What if William doesn’t get the grades he needs to go to Lancaster? What if he does? For someone who readily admits not to liking writing or exams, the choice to go to uni at all seems incongruous. But who are we to argue? A pointless exercise met invariably with either a stony silence or the standard ‘are you dumb?’ Not sure what that’s supposed to achieve, but if the outcome is for me to beat a hasty retreat, it works.

In the end, he got grades that won’t set the world on fire, but will get him into Lancaster. One less thing to worry about. One more thing to worry about.