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preserving the countryside wasn’t a priority of his. In the end we went back on the motorway and stopped at a service station for tea (which isn’t something I’d recommend to tourists, since they’d think they’d never left the airport). Came home.
    Flynn says I should get my licence – I’m going to be seventeen on 27 October after all. Flynn says that with all the money I must be earning I could get myself a car to run round in. I said with what I’m making I could hardly afford a bicycle. But it’s not a bad idea (driving, not another bloody bicycle).
    Couldn’t say anything to D about Ethan when we were with the lads, of course, and by the time we got home it’d gone out of my head completely. Tomorrow is another day (which can be either good news or bad news, can’t it?).
    Asked the MC if I could have driving lessons for my birthday. She said did I realize that in order to DRIVE AND SURVIVE you had to be able to do more than one thing at a time and occasionally stop talking so you can concentrate? I said I’d never known it to stop her talking. Then she wanted to know if I had any idea how much lessons cost. I said no. She said well, when I paid for them I’d find out. I don’t see why I should PAY some stranger to teach me to drive when there are two qualified drivers related to me by blood. The MC is obviously out of the question (not only is she way too highly strung but we can barely cross the road together without an argument!), so I rang Sigmund to ask him to teach me. Once again demonstrating the caring and understanding nature of the professional psychotherapist, Sigmund said NO . He said he was still recovering from teaching the MC.

SUNDAY 5 AUGUST
    There seems to be no end to the surprises Life has in store for me (I just wish one or two of them were GOOD !). Sappho and Mags were coming over for Sunday lunch, and since a real meal (even a vegan one with all the interesting stuff taken out) is something of an event in this house these days, I said I’d be here. Had a WELL-DESERVED lie-in and then talked to Disha for a while on the mobe. (Forgot about Ethan again.) By the time I got off the phone I could hear activity in the kitchen, so I went out to say hello. Mags and Sappho were at the table as expected. But there was a bloke with an apron wrapped around him, stirring something on the cooker – which
wasn’t expected
. (He looked like an old folk singer – beard, wire-rimmed glasses, an earring and one of those ethnic caps that are popular in the Himalayas and places like that.) I didn’t think anything of it because, even though they’re lesbians, Sappho and Mags know a lot of men, and I assumed they brought him along because he was hungry. (Though I did think someone could’ve WARNED ME ! What if I’d come out in my underwear?!!) As soon as the MC saw me, she started shrieking, “Here’s Janet!” like she was a talk-show host and I was the guest. She grabbed hold of the Pot-Stirrer and dragged him away from the cooker. “Janet, this is Robert Hotspur!” I said, “Hi.” Sappho laughed and said, “You have no idea who Robert is, do you, Janet?” I said, “How could I? I only just walked into the room!” The MC did her Bridge-About-to-Collapse sigh and said that Robert is the bloke she’s been dating! (To
him
she said, “What’d I tell you about our Janet? She’s not in this world.” Which I felt was v cheeky!) I maintained my cool and said that (as per usual) no one had told me he was coming. Robert said he and
Josh
(!!!) felt it was time he got acquainted with everyone (except Nan and Sigmund, of course!). Robert said he’d been looking forward to meeting me. I said and
vice versa
, even though that isn’t strictly true since I didn’t really know he existed. He said he’d heard a lot about me. I said I hoped it was all good and he said SOME of it was. Apparently Robert’s a solicitor, but not the sort who makes TONS OF DOSH (which is the sort of bloke we could do