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didn’t seem quite so happy about it then, though I’ve no idea why – after all, they get their payment just the same, and more reliably too, I would have thought, since that particular income flow will never run dry. I have the feeling that they want me to stay in touch so they can squeeze more money out of me, money for things that the funding doesn’t quite stretch to. But what good would it do, to have a flat-screen television in her room, when there’s a perfectly good set in the day room she can watch if she’s so inclined? Why does she need shoes, when she’s never going to set foot outside the door?
    I tried to explain all this once, but the Matron’s tone became decidedly brisk. After that particular conversation – which concluded with her saying something about me visiting my mother once in a while in a sarcastic tone which I could quite have done without – I started to leave the phone to ring when I saw the number for the home on the caller display. Before too long she didn’t even bother to leave a message.
    I’m perfectly willing to visit my mother. In fact, it’s something I look forward to on occasion – a nice trip out on a sunny weekend, buying her some chocolate on the way and then eating it in her room because, after all, she can’t eat it herself, can she? – but I absolutely refuse to be told by some dried-up matron when I should do so.
    As I refuse to be told by anybody what I should do.
    In any case, I have plans for this weekend and I expect to be particularly busy. So many of my research projects are about to come to fruition – glorious transformations, not to be missed.
     

Briarstone Chronicle
     
    Aug
ust
Death of Pianist ‘Tragic Waste’
     
    The body of former concert pianist Noel Gardiner was discovered at the Catswood home he shared with his partner, vocalist Larry Scott, last Sunday. It is believed the body of Mr Gardiner had lain undiscovered for ‘some time’, according to police sources.
    Mr Scott’s death from a heart attack at the age of 59 was reported by the
Chronicle
in May. Friends said yesterday that Mr Gardiner had become very withdrawn following the bereavement.
    ‘We tried to get him out and about,’ said a friend, who did not wish to be named. ‘But he missed Larry dreadfully. They were always together.’
    Noel Gardiner was a talented musician who had performed with orchestras around the world. Tributes poured in following the announcement of his death and several bouquets have been laid outside the house in Lenton Lane.
     
Obituary: page 46.
     

Noel
     
    The first time I saw him, I knew he was the one. Knew it the way they always said I would, even though I’d never believed in true love. I laughed at the people who did.
    He was singing tenor in the choir and I was the last-minute replacement brought in when some old dear cried off. I played my little heart out that night, I can tell you. Looking at him when I dared to, which wasn’t often, and drinking him in like wine, letting him spread through my veins like the first taste of alcohol. I wasn’t brave enough to speak to him after the concert but luckily for me he’d noticed me looking at him and came strolling over to ask me to show him where the best place for a nightcap was.
    I took him to the Black Bull, because I knew none of the others would be in there – I didn’t want to share him. I wanted him just for myself. If he was surprised by the pub – it was a bit grim, if I’m honest – he didn’t let on. He bought us a bottle of plonk to share and when we’d finished it they let us have another even though it was almost last orders. We had our heads together, gossiping and putting the world to rights as though we’d known each other our whole lives and not just for that one evening. By the time he walked me home, I was starting to panic that I’d misread the situation, that it was just another fling, another encounter that was going to be about the physical side of it and