24 April 2014 @ 09:14 am
*John had spotted the package on the table as he'd stumbled through the flat to get the morning's round of coffee. He'd glanced at it, curious, but upon hearing the yells from his wife for breakfast too decided that discovering the contents could wait a while. It didn't look dangerous, after all. The morning routine remained uninterrupted by the mysterious package and it wasn't until later that John even remembered it's existence. He put down the piece he was penning for a local newspaper and went to investigate. The parcel itself was simply a brown box with a note affixed to the top. John read it and smiled.*

Replacements for those destroyed in The Incident. -P

*Ah yes, The Incident. Ever since Peter had taken it upon himself to teach the children how to play Fireflies, the Bercow household had been subject to periodic test of the fire alarm among other inconveniences (John was sure that it was simply a coincidence that his most colourful ties also happened to be the most flammable). The most recent of these upsets had been The Incident.*

*While John was busy being ridiculed in the usual manner by Sally and Peter, the children had been dashing about, playing with what all adults had assumed to be harmless sparks of light. It transpired, however, that Freddie's grasp on charms was somewhat more advanced than even John had thought, and that the child had been experimenting with some of the finer points of the spell. As Sally began to tell Peter the story of John's latest failures, Freddie had flung a charm over the coffee table at his sister. The modifications he had made to the fireball had turned it from a nearly weightless ball of light to something much harder and more difficult to control. As a result, the more sold ball crashed into every object on the table, smashing the mugs and table decorations to piece and sending the pile of magazines flying in all directions. Thankfully the ball missed hitting anyone and embedded itself in a wall until Freddie's concentration was broken and it disappeared altogether.*

*Despite what he'd said at the time, John hadn't actually expected Peter to pay for replacements, certainly not after the way the other man had stormed through the fireplace and ignored all of John's attempts to get in contact with him. The gift was a nice surprise.*

*John opened the box and looked down at the three mugs staring back at him. There was no doubting for whom each mug was intended.*

*Rolling his eyes, John reached for his phone and then went to put the kettle on.*

Text from 078## ######


Thank you for the mug. I shall let you know how well it compares once the current test of its abilities has reached a conclusion.


26 December 2012 @ 09:56 am
*John and Sally are fast asleep, John snoring slightly. In her sleep Sally reaches out to nudge John and murmurs to indicate that he should probably roll over or get hit in the face with a pillow until he stops snoring. Ten years of marriage has taught John well and he quickly shifts his sleeping position until he is situated on his other side. Just as he settles down to go back to sleep the bedroom door bursts open and three children jump onto the bed. Freddie is yelling “He’s been! He’s been!” at the top of his voice, while Oliver is explaining all about the special present Father Christmas (actually John) left at the end of his bed. Jemima, meanwhile, is demanding to know when they can open the rest of the gifts.*

*It takes a while, but eventually the Bercow family are situated in the living room, Sally clutching a rather large mug of coffee and John already on his second cup of tea. Freddie and Oliver are distributing the presents to their owners with a pile by one end of the sofa for Peter. Jemima watches, making sure they don’t “accidentally” take one of her presents.*

*The presents are distributed by 7 o’clock. Slightly more awake, Sally and John manage to distract the children for another half an hour with various Christmas-related issues but by 7.30 they can put the inevitable off no longer. John picks up the phone and calls Peter.*
08 November 2012 @ 09:32 am
*John stumbles out of bed, Sally's sleepy moans of "coffeeeeeee" reminding him of his aim. She and the children had come back to London last night - thankfully, after the Viagra had worn off - and John and Sally had spent most of the night preparing for Freddie's birthday celebrations.*

*As he makes breakfast, he takes his phone off charge and texts Peter.*

Text from 078## ######


Freddie's birthday today - we're having a little party later and I'm sure he'd love for you to visit about 5 pm.

Further to that, this week's episode of Question Time looks promising: Damian Green, Chuka Umunna, Shirley Williams, Jane Moore and Professor David Blanchflower.

See you later.

05 November 2012 @ 08:42 am
*It's 7 am and John is already awake, making breakfast. After an evening of thinking up pranks - and enlisting the children to help with ideas - John had settled on a simple, yet irritating one to begin with. Nothing as horrific as what Peter had done, of course (he wasn't that mean) but enough to let the other man know the war had started. It had also required the children's help to prepare and execute his plan.*

*John poured the boiling water over the teabag in the mug and smirked. Peter should be waking up soon, and then he'll discover that he's not the only one who can come up with a prank.*
21 April 2012 @ 04:49 pm
Yes, boys, we will go flying soon - we just need to wait for Uncle Peter to get here.

Because, Freddie, it would be impossible for me to keep an eye on both of you by myself.

...Yes, Oliver, I do need Uncle Peter's help this time, and I'll thank you not to tell him that when he arrives.
18 February 2012 @ 06:24 pm
Another complete and utter non-story doing the rounds, but it is nice to be back at home.
21 November 2011 @ 11:20 am
...certainly are characters. Sally seems to be enjoying her time filming, although I'm not entirely sure what she told Jemima before she left for the caravan. My little princess has done... something rather odd to her Barbie dolls. Still, whatever it was, I'm sure it couldn't possibly have been as bad as what she divulged to Iain Dale for December's edition of Total Politics.

On a completely different note, these fire alarms are getting somewhat bothersome.
I do believe I have just about managed to persuade my son that his own throne is more than adequate for conducting his birthday business and does not need to sit in the chair of the House. He did look rather sweet with a blanket wrapped around him pretending it was a robe, though, I must say. He also seemed to enjoy his presents and after a busy day in the chamber I can look forward to jelly and ice-cream covered children running about the place as I attempt constituency work.
 Ah, come about 9 o'clock tonight it will be two years in the Speaker's chair, although I don't quite subscribe to Sally's view of my election victory - I think it was more than the impression 'wot won it', so to speak. I do rather like the badge though, but I fear it may not be deemed appropriate attire for the chamber.
Current Mood: nostalgic
06 May 2011 @ 09:35 pm
Oh goodness, poor Oliver is still most upset. No matter what Freddie makes fly or all the sparks he shows him or offers of taking him on the broom, he's still won't cheer up, poor thing. Sally's putting a brave face on it, but poor Oliver... I suppose someone will be reading dinosaur themed bed time stories for quite a while.

On the other hand, Jemima won't stop giggling.
13 March 2011 @ 06:47 pm
I come back from taking Freddie out for his first lesson and what do I find? Jemima, surrounded by Oliver's toys and the contents of the doll house resembling some sort of Disney-themed horror film.

I'm just going to pretend it's Sally playing a joke and leave it at that.
12 March 2011 @ 05:21 pm
On the way back from buying Freddie his first broom (no matter how hard I tried, he still chose the 'Falcon over the 'Storm - children these days!) I saw this and, for some reason, thought of you.

Talk to you when you get back from wherever it is you've run off too.


P.S. While I couldn't possibly condone accidentally or 'accidentally' granting sentience to your creations, I have to say The Machine is far more polite than I dared hope it would be, given that it was made by you. J.