The Sage forgot about Z

I know, you can hardly believe it and nor can I. But I was stood up; not with disdain aforethought but through sheer amnesia.

Al went to work this morning, but I was not surprised when he returned after an hour, so I went in to help Tim. Monday mornings are always busy – for one thing there’s always a big order received as so much has sold out on Saturday and then there is a lot to check and possibly throw out; and it’s often a busy morning as people need to stock up after the weekend. However, I was home by 12.30 and ate a quick but delicious lunch of granary bread (unadorned), raspberries, plain yoghurt and cherries. The yoghurt is a bit of a slog actually; I bought it a week ago, two 500g pots, but as they were out of whole milk stuff I bought fat-free and, to be honest, it’s a bit too worthy. I’ve taken to adding a spoonful of Greek yoghurt to perk it up, but it’s still taking some getting through.

I drove to the blood donor clinic in case I felt woozy and not like cycling the 3 miles home – I was fine, but was a little tired when on my way to the hairdresser later; I had to stand on the pedals to make it up the hill. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon in the shop – Tim offered to stay until the end of the afternoon and I gratefully accepted. I had a front door key, and the Sage said he’d call in at 6 o’clock with his key, to lock the back door.

At 6.20, I phoned home. No reply. I phoned Ro’s mobile. Little chance of a reply there, he usually leaves it on the kitchen table once he gets home from work. Finally (I was tired and hungry) I phoned Al and asked if Dilly could bring in a key.

Two minutes later, my mobile rang. “Are you still at the shop?” asked the Sage cheerfully. I knew he was at home, as the display showed “Us”. “You were supposed to call in half an hour ago to lock the back door,” I reminded him tersely. “Oh! My meeting went on a long time.” “It was the last thing you said to me when I left the house” – I was stern. He was abashed. Legless for standing purposes.

Five minutes later, having warded off Dilly, he drew up. I was smiling by then (mercurial isn’t in it – I am the mistress of the mood change). “There’s a bottle of pink in the fridge; have a glass poured for me”

And he did. Even better, Dilly and Co had only eaten half their chicken for dinner and she gave me the rest, with potato salad and coleslaw; I hastily washed a lettuce, sautéed courgettes to add to leftover couscous and dinner was ready 15 minutes after I started preparing it. The Sage also used a particularly nicely-shaped glass for the wine, which makes such a difference to one’s enjoyment. I don’t often use good glasses, as I put them in the dishwasher, but he is unaware of such things and that’s fine with me.

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