Thursday.

Late morning. Had a 'phone call from Ann earlier to say there had been a 'drama' in London where she is child minding Lizzie's three. Last night just, after nine, Matthew was preparing his kit for a weekend cadet camp (he is now a full corporal in the school cadet force). He got out his rucksack (which had not been used for some weeks) and found it was rather smelly. So Matt gave it a good squirting, inside and out, with a spray deodorant. Continuing to check his kit he then got out a lighter and clicked it to make sure it was working. The rucksack exploded, burning Matt's arm, hand, and face. Matt got into a cold bath and called his sister Georgia who galloped down and got Granny Ann. After which it became textbook first aid procedure - cling film, a 999 call to the ambulance, and the burns department of the local hospital. Things in fact weren't too bad - Matt was eventually allowed home, and the burns specialist even said that he could see no reason why he shouldn't go to his cadet camp this weekend - I must say I found this detail very reassuring.
My immediate reaction was that I aught to get myself up to London, but Ann firmly negatived this idea, saying that Matt was asleep in bed, there was no permanent damage, and there was nothing I could do when there. As the only thing I could think of to do if I went would be a Corporal Jones act (rushing up and down shouting 'Don't panic, Mr. Mainwaring') I eventually allowed myself to be persuaded to stick to plan A and go up on Saturday morning.
I think I must place on record that Matt (who is a first aider), and Ann (who was a nurse), did all the right things. Ann also says that both the girls, Georgia and Beth, behaved very well and gave all the assistance they could. I am very proud of my family.