Thursday came quietly.
I woke up at six again, which was becoming a pattern, lay there listening to the house for a few minutes and then got up and made tea and sat at Angela's kitchen table and watched the street wake up the way I had been doing every morning since we arrived.
I liked that street.
I had not expected to like anything so quickly but that street with its trees and its unhurried dog walkers and its houses that minded their own business had done something to my shoulders that I noticed every morning when I sat down with my tea.
They dropped.
Just a little. Just enough. But they dropped.
Eli came downstairs at half six with Captain bear and a very serious question about whether dragons ate toast and Angela answered without blinking that they preferred it with marmalade an
