„Holiday“ clothes. It’s summer, apart from the intensively bright sun, thesmell of freshly brewed coffee and mum’s voice wakes us up. I have aquick peek through the curtains, a line of washing must have been hungoutside early in the morning, it looks completely dry. I cannot see anyone,but I know she’s there. I crane my neck and I am just able to make outblonde locks and cigarette smoke. The morning ‘gossip’ with theneighbours is in full swing. Bare-footed and in pjs my sister and I jump outon the balcony and join the discussion. We love summer. We have ourmum to ourselves for a whole 2 months of holidays.