Coronavirus: How do I juggle my job, the kids, a dog and an elderly dad?

Charlotte Cripps is panic buying for her 87-year-old dad and wondering whether he should move in with her. It puts her in mind of the time her dad met Alex

(Amara May)

I’m a single mum, navigating coronavirus with two kids, a dog and an elderly dad. The logistics are impossible to work out: how will I leave my kids to care for my 87-year-old father if he needs me? I’ve been panic buying for him but got into deep water when all his frozen food was delivered to my place: I only have a three-drawer freezer. Do I get my dad to move in with me if we are all on lockdown?

The two-bedroom flat is barely big enough for me, the kids and Roseanna, the nanny, let alone him. But I can’t leave him alone off the Upper Richmond Road West. He still works in his accountancy firm and travels on the bus to work. How is he going to cope with self-isolating?

If only Alex was here, we would be living in a bigger house by now, and I could offer my dad a room. But I can’t imagine my dad and Alex under the same roof – even if there was an emergency.

It takes me back to when they first met. That morning, before I had even smelt the coffee, Alex texted me to put in the asking price for the flat. What? This is real? I wanted to do a bit of “duvet diving” as it’s known in recovery. I just needed to switch off my phone so I could process it.

I’m having a few last-minute jitters; it’s perfectly understandable. The decision to buy the flat was only made last night. I haven’t even started my pros and cons list. I was desperate to get out of the dingy rental flat on the Harrow Road where I’m sick and tired of the neighbour below having sex all night. Could this be my escape? Is Alex right? Can I trust him? Why does he care so much? Is he getting a backhander?

I wouldn’t get the inheritance money for ages as it had to go through probate. Alex gave me a number to talk to a mortgage and financial advisor who was banging on about bridging loans. This is all before I’ve even clocked in at work. It picked up momentum as I got on the tube and the next thing I knew my asking price had been accepted.

Alex said it was a bargain and the area would go up in price. It turned out he was right. But at the time it all felt terrifying. The next thing I knew I was calling my mum’s cousin, who was the executor of the will, and asking if I could get the money earlier than the others, so I didn’t lose the flat. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” I explained – half not believing what I was saying. My mum’s cousin said “gosh, you are grabby” and then agreed to sort it out once they had seen my calculations.

This was really happening. Alex told me that he would even move in. Oh my god. Move in? Is he serious? It sounded so exciting. But it wasn’t as good as it sounded: he meant alone. His plan was that he would move out of my sister’s flat and into my nearby flat, do it up on the cheap, and give me a year’s rent up front, which would pay for the renovations.

I wasn’t sure how I would handle a house warming party? Especially when I wasn’t even living there. Should I go with it, or not? Was this the first step to making a nest? The main problem was I needed a deposit for the flat before I received any cash, but Alex had a plan.That’s when we met my long-suffering dad for a pizza. I had to ask him to get his check-book out again.

Dad was told not to put his foot in anything as we were not formally a couple. He is not very tactful; and when we arrived he immediately said “I’ve heard a lot about you.” I kick my dad under the table, but instead of the getting the hint, he asks me why I’ve just kicked him.

My dad threw in a couple of jokes like “watch out Alex she’s very bossy” and “never stay in a hotel with her because she always wants to change rooms”. Alex just laughed. As I’m sitting at the table it suddenly dawns on me how similar they are. The saying you become one parent and marry the other had never felt more true – I’m obviously my mum and I’ve met dad.

Alex and my dad are Leos. Both had worked their way up from working-class backgrounds to affluence. Both had absent dads. Both were charismatic and handsome, and both were fascinated by dictators. No wonder they got on like a house on fire.

Alex told my dad he would lend me half the deposit if my dad loaned me the other half. Alex wrote me a check for £20,000 on the spot. He didn’t even ask me to sign a receipt. My dad was blown away and joined him in helping me. The deal was done.

Alex would finally be in my home – but it’s only half the dream? He’s in my flat and I’m not. So close but so far. It’s like water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink, I thought to myself. Would I just look through the shuttered windows? Or would I end up there with him?