It’s been three months since Sadie died. I can say with certainty that time appears to move particularly slowly when you’re actually paying attention.

I have a job now, with Stuart’s company doing something I have little interest and absolutely no experience in. The two redeeming qualities of the position are of course a second income and also the fact that it gets me out of bed each morning (the whole point to begin with).

At the very least my commute, via the River Thames, offers a slice of calm and dignified beauty each morning.

The Clipper

My walk along the river toward Tower Bridge.

I pass the Tower of London, and signs that read, \"West Drawbridge Repair Project.\"

Through to St. Katharine\'s Dock, where the office is. Incredibly peaceful at 8am.

It’s all I can do not to throw my hands up at times when the trivial nature of what I am doing compared to the gargantuan grief I am hiding become too blindingly obvious to ignore. And yet I don’t, somehow.

Somehow I keep going. Perhaps because I hope she’s watching, and I do still want her to be proud of her mother.