Cookie, the cat, is used to spending the night on her owners’ bed and, as we’ve been given the master bedroom to sleep in (very generous), she expects to spend the night with us, something we’ve never allowed our own cats to do. But she’s missing her family and so we relent. She happily curls up at the foot of the bed and all is peace . . . until 4am, when she mews loudly in our ears to be let out. After a repeat of this the following day, we decide it’s no more ‘Mr and Mrs Nice-cat-sitters.’
We shut her away from our wing of the house – there are numerous other bedrooms and sofas for her to choose from – and we sleep until a more civilised seven thirty. Apart from a few indignant mews, Cookie accepts the new regime with true feline pragmatism and we all get on very well.
Searching for running paths, Adrian discovers the novelty of the local Bush Cemetery. Intrigued, we run past suburban houses, take a short bushy path and arrive in a tree and shrub filled parkland of many acres. Divided into specific themed lawns, this obviously isn’t, as I initially assumed, a place for ‘natural’ burials, although such things can no doubt be arranged here.
In fact, the private company that owns the land seems to have a mission statement of ‘whatever you want, we’ll organise it.’ There’s a ‘traditional monumental’ lawn, lawns – with modest plagues – named for the shrubs that surround them, an Armenian lawn and a vast area of towering family vaults, mostly sporting Italian names. There are also rows of blank tombstones waiting for the not-yet-deceased which are somehow more disconcerting than anything else. The paths are perfect for running, but all at once, we find ourselves a little desperate to find the way out.
By contrast, our visit to the eldest son of one of our closest friends is a lesson in budding exuberant life. Stephen, whom we’ve known since he was rising three, lives close by in North Curl Curl with his wife, Stephanie, and their two adorable daughters of four and almost one. We join them on a walk along the seafront to Freshwater Beach, catching up on missing years and enjoying our interaction with the two tots who are full of smiles and charm.
As we talk, I try not to voice too many memories (and possibly fail) of those long ago tots, our own and Stephen and his brothers, in and out of each others’ houses and occasionally getting into mischief, although admittedly, that was mostly Stephen’s younger brother, Will, and our daughter, Kate, who were thick as thieves. One of the great pleasures of long standing friendships is watching the children mature into the delightful adults they are today. We feel thoroughly buoyed up by the visit.
And then, as we drive back to Belrose, we have the lovely news that, while on holiday on the Greek island of Santorini, Alex and his girlfriend, Lia, have become engaged. They’ve been a committed couple for several years, so this is an unanticipated but very exciting further step for them. We feel ridiculously pleased by the news and just a little choked up with emotion.
