Core values

The house is now littered with cards saying 'Goodbye'. All, for some unfathomable reason, feature cuddly hedgehogs. Leo ignores the lot, even the great big one in the hall, which is adorned with a particularly unpleasant baby-faced version wearing little blue trousers and a cynical leer and waving a big farewell banner.

Francis' final present was an unremarkable leather document folder. He drops in on to the kitchen table, where it spends several hours getting acquainted with a couple of old sausages, at one point taking a quick dip into the tomato ketchup, until he is able to muster sufficient enthusiasm to open it.

When he does, though, it's worth it. His team has filled it with momentos of his time at the office, like one of those memory boxes you put together for the children when Granny snuffs it. There are jelly babies, breath freshener, business cards, and a leaflet listing his company's core values which are "... about recognising and respecting each other's views as a team." I add, "Except yours, Francis," in big bold letters as a joke, then, remembering Francis' reaction to Vicky's card, panic, and hide the leaflet in the recycling bin.

Of our immediate issues, the first is knowing how to refer to Francis' predicament. It's a bit like describing a relationship whose status is as yet indeterminate. Up till now we were safe with that marvellous little linking word 'just'. He'd just been made redundant. He was just about to leave. The relationship equivalent would be 'newly single'. It kept a tenuous little connection between Francis and work. Now I need to work out what to put in its place. I suppose there's 'gardening leave', but I always take it to be a euphemism for 'so damn useless we'll pay for him not to come into the office.'

I try 'between jobs'. Its hopeful vagueness reeks of desperation. After all, you don't advertise for the love of your life by saying you're between partners.

The next problem is one of respect. With Francis at home all the time, it will be all too easy to eat away at his remaining status by treating him as a glorified errand Dad, especially when my teaching job does mean I struggle with the school run. I make a vow not to ask for too much help. Not having a job is bad enough. Being asked to take up the slack when your partner does is worse.