After six weeks of lockdown, I finally lost it and had a blazing row with the missus over a trivial issue.

‘Have you got a cheque book handy ?’


‘What - you don’t have a cheque book ?’

‘I have a cheque book somewhere but I haven’t used it in years so it isn’t handy, no’

‘Hmm OK. Well, I can’t find mine and I need to write a cheque for the man from the allotment’.

‘I’ll have a look later’.

We eat dinner. Time passes.

‘Any more thoughts about your cheque book ?’

‘Any more thoughts ? Well, not really, no’.

‘I really would like to post the cheque to Richard tonight’

‘Why ? When is he next going to the allotment ?’

‘Next Wednesday’

‘So why does he need a cheque tonight ?

‘Well I think it’s just polite to give him the money upfront.’

‘OK. OK. I’ll go and look now.’

I go upstairs and fail to locate a legacy cheque book.

‘Sorry, no. It’s not where I thought it was’.

‘Hmm - OK but Richard has asked for £26.76 via a cheque’

‘OK - so where’s your cheque book ? Have you looked in your in-tray ?’

‘Yes - nothing in there’.

‘Can’t Richard receive a bank transfer ? We just need an account and sort code’.

‘No - he was insistent on a cheque’.

‘Christ - OK. This is like dripping water tap torture. Does he really need it now ?’

I go to my in-tray, rifle through assorted bills, papers, letters and finally uncover a cheque book clad in a black Midland bank plastic wallet.

‘Here, here is a cheque. Hurrah ! We can finally placate Richard and the allotment committee. For Christ’s sake’.

‘Well there’s no need to be so aggressive about it. I just asked for a cheque. What’s wrong with you ?’

Wife writes a cheque. Thankfully she doesn’t ask me for a pen. She then leaves the house to hand deliver the cheque for the princely sum of £26.76 to Richard from the allotment for goods and services unknown.

We then sit in an awkward silence for 3 hours watching four episodes of the Norwegian drama - ‘Twin’.

The wife then gets her in-tray out as part of her ongoing, endless, unceasing de-cluttering, tidying and domestic goddess initiative (in a vain effort to replace social interaction and gossiping over coffee with her friends).

‘Oh look. Here is a brand new cheque book I have never used. I never knew this was here’.