After dinner I scoop all the uneaten food onto one plate and stack the remaining plates in a wobbly plate-tower to carry through to the kitchen. There, I messily slot cutlery and crockery in amongst the existing bits, wondering if I should straighten it all a little and usually, deciding not to bother. I turn the tap on, grab a cup from the side – used or fresh; not too bothered – and when the water runs cold, I fill it up. As I drink the tap water, I reflect on how much I love water. I return to the sitting room to blow out the candles, plump up the sofa cushions, wipe the coffee table clean, shove the clutter into wicker baskets and straighten the rug. I bathe myself and the kids, return downstairs wearing pyjamas, slippers and a dressing gown and watch a drama on TV.
