Ah, the tangled webs of teenage romance. Sadly, Jamie and Harriet had a dramatic fallout last week, complete with shouting, tears, and cinematic walkouts. The cause of the dispute? A film Jamie found so boring that he abandoned Harriet mid-screening, wandered off to buy himself something to eat, and then casually strolled back in 20 minutes later. As far as romantic gestures go, it was somewhere between “slightly insensitive” and “catastrophically daft”. Unsurprisingly, Harriet was not impressed, and the relationship came to an abrupt and noisy end.

To clear his head (or flee the scene), Jamie drove up to visit Nan the following evening, taking a friend along for moral support. Nan kindly offered them a bed for the night, but Jamie opted for a moonlit return journey, arriving home at a time best described as “early enough to beat the milkman”. The rest of the week was spent moping in his room, playing PlayStation and being suspiciously polite, always a sign of emotional turmoil. He even asked Sue to speak to the swimming club on his behalf, apparently keen to dive back into the pool and possibly, metaphorically, life.

Then, just to confuse matters further, he disappeared one afternoon and returned… with Harriet in the car. Reconciliation? A hostage situation? Who knows. That same night, he went to the cinema, this time with a friend. We’ve given up trying to keep track.

Meanwhile, Sarah has signed up for an ambitious World Challenge trip to Costa Rica in 2010. She needs to raise £3,000 to take part, but she’s full of confidence and determination (and after what Jamie’s going through, I’d say Costa Rica sounds like a very sensible escape plan). Unfortunately, she’s been laid low for a couple of days by a sickness bug that seems to be sweeping through the town with military precision.

Her newly decorated bedroom is finally in use again, which gave her and Sue a chance to declutter. Much was donated to Lucas, and the rest either went into the “car boot” pile or straight to the tip. I was astounded by the sheer volume of makeup she owns. Honestly, it’s getting to the point where I wonder whether we should notify the passport office, her face may be a work of fiction.

In a rare turn of events, Sue and I went shopping together. Twice. Admittedly, it was only for bits for Sarah’s room, but still, this is nearly uncharted territory. Sue has even dipped a cautious toe into the murky waters of eBay and, dare I say it, enjoyed the thrill of the bidding. I suspect she may have acquired a taste for it…

I continue refereeing, against all medical advice and basic common sense. Having already irritated my cruciate ligament, I’ve now added a strained hamstring to the mix. Sensible people would rest. I, however, prefer to hobble stubbornly through it. This week’s “recovery plan” included cleaning the pool, painting the garage floor, and replacing the garden gate blown down in recent gales. All excellent therapy for a dodgy leg.

Charlotte took Lucas to visit Nan in Thurcroft on Monday and then popped over to collect some apple tree logs and timber offcuts for their open fire. Unfortunately, on returning home, their wheely bin caught fire, apparently from some previously discarded hot ashes. Alarmingly, the bins were parked next to the gas canisters for their heating system. The fire brigade was called, and thankfully, disaster was averted. They’re now waiting on the professionals to check over the gas before they can use it again. It could have been far worse. As it stands, they’ve been left with a melted bin, singed pride, and a very lucky escape.