Hey Jesse, it's lonely, come home

Sammie decided that this morning she wanted to visit the pigs, but they weren’t at home to visitors. I peered into their little house and I have to report it’s like a pigsty in there.

H went off to do the shopping and I knuckled down to a list of chores. This included such giddy delights as paperwork, making vast quantities of soup to keep H going (parsnip and apple, leek and potato no less), drycleaning, post office, library…all that kind of carry on. It took up the best part of the day, until it was time to take Sammie out again – the weight’s falling off me already.

We met John and Jesse in a bar at West India Quay. Now, I haven’t seen Jesse for thirteen years when we were chums living in Earls Court (me) and Kensington (her). It was like stepping back in time. So many memories. How we laughed. How we cried. How four hours passed in a shake of a lamb’s tale I’ll never know. Draughty station. Home. Bed. Sleep.