Life Outside

I run a bath, tickling my fingers in the water, checking the temperature is just so. As the tub fills I pace the bathroom in my robe, daylight framing the closed shutters on the window. There's a weary glumness to the light inside the room, a sombre sadness to this early Summer afternoon.

Afterwards I try to find Tilly and the children, they're somewhere in the house, but with our wealth of rooms they could be anywhere, and my cries are swallowed up by the expanse. Eventually, I hear Margot's laughter coming from one of the guest bedrooms, and I discover, to their great amusement, that they've turned the bed's blankets and pillows into a fort.

"No Daddy!" Alex commands as I step forward to search for them, "You can't come in."

After a circular discussion in which I try to bargain my way into the fort I go downstairs to the dining room. Lunch has been served, and I ring the bell to let the family know, expecting the temptation to bring them running.

The kitchen staff have shyed away from me recently, since I dismissed Tiago - my last lunch chef - to the outside. They tend just to notify me once the meals have been served, and the waiting staff - at dinners - have perfected an almost invisible art of clearing plates and presenting the successive courses.

"What did he do?" Tilly had asked, removing her jewellry as we prepared for bed that evening.

I told her that he had this neck tattoo, a bloody skull, I hadn't noticed it before, and I'm sure it wasn't new. Perhaps, I posited, he had been covering it with make-up and it had slipped his mind. Tilly agreed that it was most inappropriate, not something we would want the children to be exposed to.

After lunch I logged into the office cloud, I had a meeting with the other MDs, each beamed in from their respective studies. I made sure that I was framed by my bookshelf in the webcam's view, father had told me that this would give off a positive and knowledgable perception, and I carefully noted what my colleagues had chosen as their backdrops.

There was a flat beige wall, a world map, a garden view, a Miro painting, and another had also chosen a bookshelf, though his was less impressive - mine heaved with hardback tomes, his was rife with paperback page-turners; I considered flagging this up to the Chief Executive as an item of concern.

More frustrating though, Alfred - who lives in a very pleasant pile near Haslemere - was clearly wearing his pajamas to the meeting, whereas the rest of us were in suit and tie. I scribbled a note, to remind myself of this.

After the meeting I went into the garden, the sun was at its apex, so there was a warm, flat light over the grounds. I enjoy this time of day best, since having the high walls installed I've missed sunrise and sunset, but in the summer especially this time of day is most pleasant.

Tilly had come out into the garden to, she was in a lounger by the pond.

"Were you kicked out of the fort?" I asked, strolling over and taking an orange from the fruit bowl besider her.

"The kids got bored, realised it was a lovely day and wanted to play outside."

I dig my finger into the skin, it resists my efforts to tear a chunk away and begin peeling.

"Where are they now?"

She looked up and scanned the garden, my eyes followed, and we found Alex throwing a dinosaur up in the air near the sandpit, and then Margot over by the guardhouse.

I was a little out of breath when I got to her, checked she was okay, and aside from a look of panic - probably a reflection of my own - she seemed fine. I stared up at the guard on duty, a short man, but broad, with a neat grey beard and round glasses.

"Afternoon, sir," he nodded at me.

"Please don't talk to my daughter."

"I hadn't, sir. She was talking at me."

I ushered Margot back towards her mother, standing my ground, watching the guard glancing at me but keeping his eyes fixed on the monitors that showed the perimeter, outside the walls, that showed the people idling around.

"Can't you do something about them?" I asked.

"There's a 10pm curfew in the summer months," the guard said reaching for his tea. "Other than that they can do what they like most afternoons. Got to give the inmates a bit of free time."

"But they could be made to work, do something productive."

"Ay, they do, eight until one in the afternoon, then lunch. Well, they try to. I was talking to a warden, he says it's getting harder to... Well, I shouldn't gossip."

"No," I sized the man up again, "you shouldn't." I tried to make the warning clear, he was lucky to be getting that.

I turned and made my way back to the house.

"Have a good evening, sir," the guard called after me. "Any plans?"

Perhaps it was the jovial tone in his voice, but something about his farewell crawled under my skin. I couldn't sleep that night, tossing and turning in the sheets, which felt damp and clammy against my body.

Tilly called to me from her bed, asked if I wouldn't mind sleeping in another room if I was going to be so restless.

"Are you going to report me?" I joked as I took my quilt and a pillow elsewhere.

I made myself comfy on the sofa, despite the guest rooms I rather fancied falling asleep whilst watching some television. I ordered a hot chocolate from the night staff and went to draw the curtains.

At the end of the garden, by the guardhouse, I could see a light - the tip of a cigarette - the audacity of that man! Smoking on my property without permission. I moved to the phone, but hesitated at the last moment, and I'm not sure entirely sure why, but I suddenly felt that - despite everything - I didn't want to send him away, I wanted to keep him here, this guard, this insipid stranger, as if something about that was a form of punishment.

I went back to the window, the figure had returned to the guardhouse. I drew the curtains, and when I returned to the sofa there was a hot chocolate steaming on the side table.

Turning on the television there was a high pitched whining, a test signal, and a card that read 'Due to unforseen circumstances all programming has been suspended', and behind that a spectrum of colour bars.

I lowered the volume so the whine was barely audible, yet its presence gave me a little comfort, I pulled the quilt over myself and snuggled onto the sofa, sipping at my hot chocolate, letting it softly warm me inside.