They were out for all of yesterday and into the night, so it was very quiet. I heard them arrive at ten past ten, so I braced myself for a bumpy ride. There was no need though; apart from the patter of tiny footsteps there wasn't a peep out of them.
Little miss madam was up by about eight this morning, and going round the flat like a dose of anthrax. Meanwhile mother was either having a nice lie-in, or being strangely quiet.
I don't want to raise my hopes, only to have them dashed, so I shan't speculate about whether she's moving out. I can only hope. In the past I used to try and make excuses; it wasn't the kid's fault, I wouldn't want the woman to lose her home, and all that sort of bollocks. You know what? I don't care any more whether she gets booted out. In fact I hope she does get booted out, if she doesn't move first of her own volition.
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