Ill at ease

A hot tiring day in Bladeham. We wandered in usual tourist fashion around the town and Mum, Dad, Carol and Robert walked along the riverbank to Bladeham Abbey, I stayed instead around the town square looking for bookshops. I found just one and sat for a long time watching the crowds slide past in the heat, feeling ill at ease.

We got back to the caravan and Mum and I both felt ‘under the weather’; Mum stretched herself out feeling sure she’d got tonsillitis; she could hardly speak, was dizzy and uncoordinated, and by the time we turned out the lights she’d resigned herself to a day spent alone and suffering in the caravan. We were all worried.

I too was overcome by tiredness and a headache, and I could feel my pulse pounding in my throat. I sank into sleep, but woke up again at about ten as everyone returned. For the third night in a row they’d watched a pair of deer chasing one another through the grass before loping off across the fields in the direction of Thwaitegarth. The magic of the encounter still lingered in everyone’s minds.

I felt muzzy with sleep but went out into the dark field for a little while.