at these small acts of gallantry – and I was grateful because we had been outside for over an hour now and it was cold. I took
out a cigarette and Carl did his best to light it for me, but the little yellow lighter spluttered and died. Carl approached a couple standing close to us, who were also huddled together against
the cold, and the man lit our cigarettes and his girlfriend smiled at us. With Carl’s sweater on and his arms around me, standing at the edge of this thing, smoking like one of the crowd, and
with this friendliness from the couple next to us, I relaxed a little and even began to enjoy myself.
Helicopters arrive. Police. They hover over the car park and take it in turns to lower over the crowd pressing us down and out. Some people yell angrily at the helicopters, others scuttle to
their cars. We are like a disturbed anthill. Carl takes me by the arm and keeps me close to him and he steers us towards the white van. He has taken control, and I am glad of it, glad of him. A
puny strain of music can be heard amid the running engines. There is a queue to get out of the car park, or not a queue, just cars crowding towards the exit and it seems whoever can cram forward
fastest gets out first. Carl uses the full height and size of the van and crushes on until we are out. Will they follow? I ask, meaning the helicopters. No, he says. Why aren’t there any
police in cars? I ask. Because they’d get fucking lynched. Not if they sent enough, I say. There aren’t enough, he tells me.
The next day we drove past that car park and, at my request, Carl slowed down because I could see, and was fascinated by, the twisted corpse of one of the cars sacrificed the night before. A
blown out front window left a gaping hole like an eye socket and the door had melted over a frame distorted into a jawbone and so the wreckage had the appearance of an enormous blackened sheep
skull.
Thirteen
I’m in love with the garden down the street and I think it is love, or at the very least a massive crush, because just looking at it makes me want to buy new
clothes, eat better, get fit. It’s just a little walled garden, but it fills me with desire to reach out; there’s something about it I want to claim, or join with, in some way.
Everything in it is flourishing. It’s wild and well tended – I love this combination.
I’ve been out on the terrace to look at the garden at least once every day since I first saw it. I’m too much of a scaredy-cat to sit on the low wall at the edge so
I just stand. And it’s a pain dragging my desk back and forth in order to open the doors so I found a new position for the desk, and have left it there. When it gets hotter I’ll want to
have the terrace doors open more anyway.
Fourteen
I made three mistakes. The first mistake was to kiss Carl in the bar, because that broke the sanctity of what I had with Johnny. The second mistake was to accept the perfume he
gave me, because that led to the affair. And the third mistake was to take in his cat, because as long as Molly was living with me, the affair could not be ended cleanly.
Long before I told Johnny about Carl, Carl’s girlfriend Katie guessed about me and when she confronted him, he didn’t deny it. That same evening Carl set up a bed on the floor in
their sitting room. He told me later that their relationship had already dwindled to platonic and that’s why Katie accepted his passion for me even though she didn’t like it. Neither
Katie nor Carl could afford the rent on their own so they agreed that until Katie found somewhere she wanted to move to, they would stay there like that; Katie in the bedroom, Carl on the sitting
room floor.
By the time Katie found another place to live, Johnny had left me to go and stay in the yellow room at Robbie’s house and I was living alone. Carl found a room somewhere, but there was a
dog in the house so he couldn’t take Molly. When Carl told me he would have to move, I thought he
out a cigarette and Carl did his best to light it for me, but the little yellow lighter spluttered and died. Carl approached a couple standing close to us, who were also huddled together against
the cold, and the man lit our cigarettes and his girlfriend smiled at us. With Carl’s sweater on and his arms around me, standing at the edge of this thing, smoking like one of the crowd, and
with this friendliness from the couple next to us, I relaxed a little and even began to enjoy myself.
Helicopters arrive. Police. They hover over the car park and take it in turns to lower over the crowd pressing us down and out. Some people yell angrily at the helicopters, others scuttle to
their cars. We are like a disturbed anthill. Carl takes me by the arm and keeps me close to him and he steers us towards the white van. He has taken control, and I am glad of it, glad of him. A
puny strain of music can be heard amid the running engines. There is a queue to get out of the car park, or not a queue, just cars crowding towards the exit and it seems whoever can cram forward
fastest gets out first. Carl uses the full height and size of the van and crushes on until we are out. Will they follow? I ask, meaning the helicopters. No, he says. Why aren’t there any
police in cars? I ask. Because they’d get fucking lynched. Not if they sent enough, I say. There aren’t enough, he tells me.
The next day we drove past that car park and, at my request, Carl slowed down because I could see, and was fascinated by, the twisted corpse of one of the cars sacrificed the night before. A
blown out front window left a gaping hole like an eye socket and the door had melted over a frame distorted into a jawbone and so the wreckage had the appearance of an enormous blackened sheep
skull.
Thirteen
I’m in love with the garden down the street and I think it is love, or at the very least a massive crush, because just looking at it makes me want to buy new
clothes, eat better, get fit. It’s just a little walled garden, but it fills me with desire to reach out; there’s something about it I want to claim, or join with, in some way.
Everything in it is flourishing. It’s wild and well tended – I love this combination.
I’ve been out on the terrace to look at the garden at least once every day since I first saw it. I’m too much of a scaredy-cat to sit on the low wall at the edge so
I just stand. And it’s a pain dragging my desk back and forth in order to open the doors so I found a new position for the desk, and have left it there. When it gets hotter I’ll want to
have the terrace doors open more anyway.
Fourteen
I made three mistakes. The first mistake was to kiss Carl in the bar, because that broke the sanctity of what I had with Johnny. The second mistake was to accept the perfume he
gave me, because that led to the affair. And the third mistake was to take in his cat, because as long as Molly was living with me, the affair could not be ended cleanly.
Long before I told Johnny about Carl, Carl’s girlfriend Katie guessed about me and when she confronted him, he didn’t deny it. That same evening Carl set up a bed on the floor in
their sitting room. He told me later that their relationship had already dwindled to platonic and that’s why Katie accepted his passion for me even though she didn’t like it. Neither
Katie nor Carl could afford the rent on their own so they agreed that until Katie found somewhere she wanted to move to, they would stay there like that; Katie in the bedroom, Carl on the sitting
room floor.
By the time Katie found another place to live, Johnny had left me to go and stay in the yellow room at Robbie’s house and I was living alone. Carl found a room somewhere, but there was a
dog in the house so he couldn’t take Molly. When Carl told me he would have to move, I thought he
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