It’s 04:24, I’m blogging each time I wake to tell you my tiresome dreams. Here’s tonight’s second instalment:
I’m a nanny. I’m looking after a teenage girl and a little boy. The Dad likes me. I’m not sure if we’ve started or well into an affair but we brush past each other and make weird eye contact.
I try to help with dinner. The wife puts me out of the kitchen. I tidy up the playroom. The older gentleman with a grey beard follows me and offers help. I tell him I’m ok then hand him his coat and tell him to put it away flirtatiously, as if he were a child. He laughs.
I go outside with the little boy, he follows watching. The wife says she needs something from the shop and takes the daughter with her. He inches forward, I wouldn’t … would I?
Tension increases. I become flustered. A pot with puréed apricots boils over, kids cry and scream in next doors’ gRden. Everything becomes stressful and pressured. The little boy runs to the back of the garden whilst the husband stands behind me. I want to kiss him. He stands too close to me.
A whistling kettle screams to be taken off the stove. Where is the little boy? I go outside and it is dark, I cannot see him. I panic. I run to the back of the garden. He starts screaming but I cannot see him. Then I see his t-shirt. I grab him. We walk towards the house just as his mother and sister arrive. I go inside and find a jumper. I put it on the boy. The husband watches me, the wife watches the husband and I want to go home.