Excerpt: The Elephant's Child

Tiny little excerpt from today's scribblings:

I got up and started dinner. Moving like an automaton round the kitchen, I collected piles of soft, brown, earthy potatoes, a bunch of bright orange carrots with their feathery green tops still intact, several juicy onions and two packages of lamb from the freezer. When Zoe got home, she'd need a good hot dinner inside her – growing girls need their food. I chopped, and peeled, and sliced, and diced, and rinsed. I slopped oil in the pan and braised the onions and the meat. I stirred gravy and stock powder into a powerful paste, adding pinches of herbs and spices – my special touch, those secret ingredients that made a lamb stew so much more than just a lamb stew.

And all the time, simmering just below the surface... was The Fear. I gave it no room to move or breathe though. I kept busy and I snacked and tasted and snacked and stirred and snacked and cooked.

And not until the casserole dish was in the oven did I give myself permission to look at the clock again. I closed the oven door, drew a slow deep breath and wiped my hands dry.

Looked up at the clock – that silent digital clock with its LED display all red and bright on a black background.

Six fifty five.

And still no Zoe.