December 1st 2008 (South Croydon)
So many cats! How can I sleep with all these cats climbing all over me? I get up & run a bath. I’m surprised the caravan has a bath. The bath water is cold. I sit, up to my ankles in the water, & look out the window. Lyme Bay. Mike B appears at the window. He is covered in mud as he has climbed up the cliff from the beach. I get out the bath & let him in. He’s been clubbing in Bridport at a club called Nightmare. I’ve never heard of it. We drink tea & he picks at the mud on his clothes. I hear water running & eventually realise that I left the bath running. The bathroom is filled to knee height with bubbles. As I reach under the water to find the plug I find a cat. I pull it out & lay it flat on the kitchen table. The fur is plastered to the skin & its jaws are locked open in a gasp. I try so hard to revive the animal, but to no avail. My tears are bubbles.
December 2nd 2008.
Tom K runs a market stall selling rucksacks & camping gear. I turn one over & over in my hands. It is yellow & has many zips & pockets. He watches me as I examine it.
December 3rd 2008.
Alaster G & I are sat at a table in a cafe. It is the 1960s, but we are old. We are waiting on a pot of tea that never arrives. The waitresses begin to tidy up around us. They sweep the floor of crumbs & wipe down the vinyl tablecloths. The sign in the window is turned to read CLOSED. I ask one of the waitresses about our tea &, nodding toward the kitchen beyond the counter, says, “Help yourselves.” In the kitchen is a huge blue teapot. Alaster looks inside it & says, “They forgot us.” I take two cups from the sink & dry them with my tee shirt.