The time has come to return to my work. It has been decades since I have even thought about drawing up some designs; my mind has been awash with numbers and regrets – too clouded to function. After my great failure, I spent years in that caravan. Huddled in a mess of crumbs and papers, I had become a shadow of my former self. That was how I was, until I found my son. Before I took the caravan out of Jacksby-on-Crescent and moved here to this home. My family home.
It has been difficult adjusting to life here, amongst women and children. I’ve never spent much time with the latter, and my time spent with the former always felt marked with impending doom. The children’s cries are heard early in the morning, they do not wake me as I rise much earlier. Usually I’m up at 5, pottering around the kitchen taking measurements.
By the time 7:30 rolls around, muffled whispers and sudden shouts begin to punctuate the peacefulness of the home. The children bundle into the kitchen with all the energy of a c
ouple of cocker spaniels. They haven’t eaten breakfast yet, but they still look wide-eyed and wired, keen for another day of rich experience. I’ve taken to preparing their morning meals now. It’s surprising how quickly they came to expect it. Little bowls of cereal, followed by egg and soldiers. With each bowl finished and plate scraped, comes a burp and a giggle – sounds of satisfaction.
My entrance into the family home has taken its toll on Mary, I can see that now. As the digits and the scones crumble away from my eyes, I’m starting to see the world the way it should be. Women and children and conservatories. The more mornings I spend in this kitchen, preparing breakfast, the more I realise that this space is too small. Mary needs space to make her dinners; the children should have a space to practise baking. That’s why I’m taking the measurements.
I’m trying to keep my project a secret, when the designs are finished I’ll show Estevez. He’s looking more dishevelled than ever, work must not be going well for him. My timing will have to be precise, caught at the wrong time and it may worsen his stress. Mary has also caught me eyeing up the counters and windows on a couple of occasions. I must learn to be more discrete in my actions.
Since my absence from the scene there have been some real innovations in the world of conservatories. One company I’ve found on the internet, Allerton Windows, have been doing some particularly striking work. Grand extensions, roof replacements and ostentatious orangeries abound and suddenly I feel a little intimidated. It matters not, I will start drawing soon. I will do what I can to help this new family of mine. Jorja Wilki is returning to conservatories.