Really Miss You Too

If my daughter is not struck down by measles or rampant hay fever, or 'flu or any other pathology running riot in the UK streets she will be starting her IB exams tomorrow - yes, the real thing is finally upon us, a cantering rearguard action come the day.

The exams started yesterday, I understand. I thought they started tomorrow - with English - but no, yesterday was the day - Politics, apparently. Hope it all went well for the Politics students - my daughter is not one of those, although Politics is part of the Uni Course for which she's applied. There is undoubtedly some incomprehensible reason why Politics is not currently on her agenda for IB although she will be taking A Level Politics in June.

But perhaps she is as confused as I, as she thinks there are no exams today - a day off for everyone? surely not - but maybe it's something obscure today like 'Atom Splitting for Beginners' - being taken by someone in Norway and someone else in Chile. Perhaps.

So, this morning she was not good. Her iMessage ran;

'Morning. Skype 3.35 your time? Really miss you. Love you. x'

I'd offered to fly over for the exams but she'd been calmer then, and logical, saying that she wouldn't really be able to spend any time with me so it would be a waste of time. Agreed.

But I should have gone anyway, shouldn't I? I should have foreseen the final countdown ending with potential meltdown and arranged a touchdown.

'Really miss you.'

Says so much.

So I called her and we didn't say that much; I was treading carefully and she was holding it together. The agenda for today is final, final, final revision for English, followed by Philosophy for which exam on Monday. She's eating because she must. She's keeping out of the way of the students with head colds/extreme breakdowns/extreme confidence. She'll catch up at lunchtime - her time. She catches her breath. So do I.

 Now I can't wait for the exams to get underway - let's get this show on the road, fast-forward two weeks to the anticlimactic, post-exams, pre-result limbo.

I can't wait to see my daughter without bags under her eyes and books in her arms and quotations on her lips.

But meanwhile,Waitrose are sending in the cavalry; no military might, just a floral bouquet with my thoughts as reinforcements on the card.

'With you every step of the way.'

As ever.