Aunty C and the nephew no-show

A lovely week went by at my Writers' holiday, the latter word being a misnomer if ever I heard one. Saturday, I returned home to an untidy house (what did I expect leaving three men in charge?) and a visit from Aunty C who had boyfriend and dogs in tow. Blod, she figured, being five days late. would surely make an appearance over the weekend.

Early Sunday morning my husband's mobile rang out, causing him to leap out of bed - not easy when you're on the wall side. I sat bolt upright, looking hopeful, till he mouthed 'Work call' at me. Work call, on a Sunday? Someone needs to get a life. 'Why is your phone even on?' I enquired after the conversation was over. 'Um, because we're waiting for a call from our daughter?' he replied without quite saying, 'Duh!' Well, it was early. 

Later on that day, we marched Giovanna around a country park in the beautiful Darent Valley, Aunty C, boyfriend, dogs and all. It was hot and uphill. Mum-to-be complained of sciatic pain and a need for the loo, but other than that - nothing. Apart from my husband deciding he might like to be called 'Pa', like my great-grandad.

At around six we took Giovanna home so she could make something for dinner with chilli. That obviously hasn't worked either. She's already tried pineapple and raspberry leaf tea - together! - to no avail.

It's now Monday evening. Aunty C and entourage have gone back to the West Country, disappointed.  She's trudging back next weekend as Giovanna is due to be induced on Friday. Finally, she'll get to meet her first nephew. 

Probably.