Our third child has effectively left home. Peachy lives more over the way than she does here, babysitting and dog sitting. She’s even quite charmed by F’s faith, wondering if she might have a point. I have been forbidden to talk to her about her EPQ or Oxbridge. Okay. I am careful to be warm and friendly when I see her. Even so she comes and goes without greeting, she goes to bed without a goodnight, she looms like a ghost from the shadows in the morning. I am a little afraid of her, a little sad. I know all is well. This is normal. She’s growing up. But she is my third out of four. I’ve only got one left. I love him all the more. My last child. Lazy and rude. I told him I loved him this afternoon.
I spoke to Buddy this morning. He’s got a date in Melbourne next week. He's flying from Bali to meet her. I can hear he's pumped to meet her. He’s searching for his next mate. He’s bought a one way ticket to Australia. She lives in Jakarta, I think. She’s going to Melbourne for the Australian Open.