Dylan sat me down and gave me a talking to. He’s worried about me, he says. Even Mum is worried about me, he says. I have lots to be positive about, he says. I need to think about all the good things around me, he says, and talks about my poems and the cat and how much he enjoys our Saturdays together. Most importantly, he says, I mustn’t stop hoping.

He has written me a poem. It’s called ‘Hope on a Rope’. He asked if he could include it in my diary. I watched him quietly as he wrote it down:

If you don’t

want to lose hope,

tie it to a rope and pull

yourself to safety. Because

hope has the power to lift

you up – whether your

problems are

light or

w

e

i

g

h

t

y

Sunday July 15th

I got my house in order. For once, I did not fight the chores but embraced them with renewed vigour: laundry, ironing, vacuuming and cleaning. It was late afternoon by the time I’d finished. I sat down and picked up The End of the Affair.

And I read it. Not quite all of it but, by the time I turned out the light, I was within whistling distance of the final page.

Monday July 16th

The cat has gone missing. I was reflecting on all the progress I’d made yesterday when I realised that it was achieved with – or perhaps, because of – the absence of cat. I rattled her food bowl at regular intervals throughout the day but with no success. I have checked all her usual sleeping places. I must confess that I am worried; this is not like her at all.

In brighter news, I have finished reading The End of the Affair. This month, I will actually be going to book group having read the book!

Tuesday July 17th

It’s my birthday on Friday. Most years I do what I can to avoid it, shunning all human contact three days before and after its occurrence. But this year, in an attempt to re-establish my life on a more positive footing, I’ve decided to grasp it by the celebratory nettle and host a small party.

I have sent invitations out to Mary, Chandrima, Kaylee, Douglas, Darren, Tomas, Mrs McNulty, Dylan and the Man at Number 29. I also wrote an invitation out to Liz but then thought better of it, scrunched it up and threw it in the bin: there is only so much that my new growth mindset can withstand. I would have invited Toby Salt but the party invitations came in a pack of ten and I’d run out by the time I got to him.

There’s still no sign of the cat. I do hope she returns in time for the party. She would feel sad to have missed out on the opportunity of all those fresh laps.

Wednesday July 18th