A call while I'm out, having posted my letter and now seeing my lovely friend Jo, one of a handful of beautiful friends able to take my weight.
It's my son's new social worker on the phone (is he? My son's new social worker? I don't know. He is a social worker though).
"I've heard you've been given the eviction order," he says.
"Yes," I reply, but only from the housing association, not the bailiff, though I don't say that.
He tells me our case has been taken to the exceptions panel! This news, if ever I could be given news, is good. I only hope it's not too late.
He asks if it's ok if he's arranges the three way meeting with my doc. Has to be really. He says come the new year he wants me and my son to be settled and me to be"happy". He has a cheerful tone on the phone. I remember him from the transfer meeting, quite big, broad shoulders...
"What does it mean?" asks Jo afterwards.
"Oh crikey! More points! Maybe they'll place us somewhere permanent!" (Nice I hope, if that happens. Happened to mum upstairs and there were wires coming out of the walls when she moved in, mould around the window frames)
"Oh Jo!" I exclaim again, so blown away by the coincidence. "It's the universe! It's like I've sent something good out, via the housing minister, so it's sent me something good back, via a social worker!"
I hug my friend. Hug her tight with all my hopes and dreams. She can take it, why I love her sooooo much!
I have to keep hoping keep hoping keep hoping.
Keep believing keep believing keep believing.
Keep hoping believing hoping believing hoping believing.
I must have faith.
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