“Why are we waking so early?”

And it is early. It’s 6.30. I’m on holiday. To be honest, I would prefer to sleep but it’s better having him here than not and, anyway, I have loads of things I want to do; that I should do; that I should be doing instead of typing this. I have convinced myself that it is better to get up with him.

“Because you are going to Venice”, I reply, adding, “Shall I put it for another 5 minutes?”

He doesn’t answer but I do it anyway.

He starts to get up.

“Do you want coffee?”, I ask.

He mumbles something in a sort of English but the answer is yes, so I get up too and make the coffee.

After he’s gone, I check the weather. It’s supposed to be raining hard but I can’t tell with the windows closed. I go to open the bedroom windows to air the room – something I do now because it’s a habit he’s got me into. I’m not really a fresh air person unless it’s warm and, whilst not exactly cold, it is not warm.

It is raining. I check the forecast again and it’s going to be like this until lunchtime. It’s not good, we shall have to go out.

I get ready.

I think about texting him to say ‘be careful’ but he has probably already left. I’ll text him later and, anyway, he’ll text me when he arrives, I expect.

It’s market day today in the street near mine. I was (if the weather had been good) going to wander through the market and maybe buy some stuff. I shan’t bother now. Now I’ll do the things I should do; the things I should have done before and other things I can do now that I bought some stuff yesterday.

“Yes”, I keep saying to myself, “it’s better that I got up early.”

Although I’m not altogether convinced, really.