tell everything, the more I seemed to get away from the quick of it. I felt this straight away, but I ignored my
instinct.
And I think, but I don’t know for sure, that the wordless back of the mind feeling is where truth lives. It’s a push-you-pull-me zone (I know but I don’t want to know) –
way too spacious. I need to introduce boundaries so that I can start somewhere and finish somewhere else. There has to be some structure to pull me through the fog.
I met my next boyfriend at the hospital, on the roof, smoking. He was sitting on a breeze block with his back to me. I knew he was a doctor by his white coat, and I could tell
from the side of his face that he was terribly handsome. I felt myself blush as I asked him for a cigarette and wished I was wearing something other than pyjamas. He stood up. He said: What are . .
. How did you get up here? I tell him, he relaxes. He is taller than Johnny, much taller than Carl and he has dark, short hair. There is conspiracy between us already because we are where we
shouldn’t be, doing what we shouldn’t do and we especially shouldn’t be doing it because he is a doctor and I am a patient. We are on different sides. Despite this, or because of
it, or both, he is attracted to me, I can tell by the way he looks at me a second longer than required, it’s a reflex, he can’t hide it, also he drops his shoulders just a little, opens
his chest slightly.
Going out with this doctor was a bad idea for all sorts of reasons. He shouldn’t have asked me and I shouldn’t have said yes, but he did, I did, and there we are, or were. We saw
each other for a couple of years. It didn’t work, but that’s another story. I say it was a bad idea, but actually the first six months were wonderful. I knew I was raiding my internal
drug supply but the high got me over some of the worst bits and anyway, he was a doctor, he could get me more. And I don’t want to sound cold, but here was a handsome man who wanted me and I
wanted him and though it didn’t last, and it wasn’t love, we had our moments.
Because I haven’t lived here long, each time I go out, to the pool, or the tube, or to walk along the canal, I am struck by how different North is to West. It’s a
whole new tone and texture.
The frenzy of sun and wind continued all day. The moss-ball blowing back and forth was getting on my nerves so I decided to remove it. To do this I had to drag my desk back
from the doors and find the key. The black tarmac was hot under my feet, I expected the moss to be silky but it was brittle and crumbly. I dropped it off the side. The terrace feels much bigger
when you are outside. In between here and the church I spied a small courtyard with lots of different sized containers, a round flowerbed in the middle, a white wisteria in flower (I wish I could
smell it) and honeysuckle climbing the walls.
Nine
I’m not sure about all of the questions, but I know one of the answers: sex. There was one business trip, quite early on, where Carl and I ended up in bed together. We
didn’t, in fact, have sex but we were in bed together, and we may as well have done because afterwards it made no difference. It made no difference to the fact that we were now on a new
level, one from which there was no turning back, and it made no difference to Johnny when I eventually told him – he was just as hurt and angry.
Carl orchestrated the whole thing. One morning, I kissed Johnny goodbye while he was in the bathroom, and stepped out of our front door to Carl, who was waiting for me right outside in the work
car, engine running, music playing. There was a long drive and a full day of meetings or presentations, about which I remember nothing. Knowing that it was going to be too late and too far to
travel back home, Carl had arranged for us to stay at the house of a friend of his, who I also knew vaguely through work. This friend had one spare room with a double bed in it, which I was to
have.
instinct.
And I think, but I don’t know for sure, that the wordless back of the mind feeling is where truth lives. It’s a push-you-pull-me zone (I know but I don’t want to know) –
way too spacious. I need to introduce boundaries so that I can start somewhere and finish somewhere else. There has to be some structure to pull me through the fog.
I met my next boyfriend at the hospital, on the roof, smoking. He was sitting on a breeze block with his back to me. I knew he was a doctor by his white coat, and I could tell
from the side of his face that he was terribly handsome. I felt myself blush as I asked him for a cigarette and wished I was wearing something other than pyjamas. He stood up. He said: What are . .
. How did you get up here? I tell him, he relaxes. He is taller than Johnny, much taller than Carl and he has dark, short hair. There is conspiracy between us already because we are where we
shouldn’t be, doing what we shouldn’t do and we especially shouldn’t be doing it because he is a doctor and I am a patient. We are on different sides. Despite this, or because of
it, or both, he is attracted to me, I can tell by the way he looks at me a second longer than required, it’s a reflex, he can’t hide it, also he drops his shoulders just a little, opens
his chest slightly.
Going out with this doctor was a bad idea for all sorts of reasons. He shouldn’t have asked me and I shouldn’t have said yes, but he did, I did, and there we are, or were. We saw
each other for a couple of years. It didn’t work, but that’s another story. I say it was a bad idea, but actually the first six months were wonderful. I knew I was raiding my internal
drug supply but the high got me over some of the worst bits and anyway, he was a doctor, he could get me more. And I don’t want to sound cold, but here was a handsome man who wanted me and I
wanted him and though it didn’t last, and it wasn’t love, we had our moments.
Because I haven’t lived here long, each time I go out, to the pool, or the tube, or to walk along the canal, I am struck by how different North is to West. It’s a
whole new tone and texture.
The frenzy of sun and wind continued all day. The moss-ball blowing back and forth was getting on my nerves so I decided to remove it. To do this I had to drag my desk back
from the doors and find the key. The black tarmac was hot under my feet, I expected the moss to be silky but it was brittle and crumbly. I dropped it off the side. The terrace feels much bigger
when you are outside. In between here and the church I spied a small courtyard with lots of different sized containers, a round flowerbed in the middle, a white wisteria in flower (I wish I could
smell it) and honeysuckle climbing the walls.
Nine
I’m not sure about all of the questions, but I know one of the answers: sex. There was one business trip, quite early on, where Carl and I ended up in bed together. We
didn’t, in fact, have sex but we were in bed together, and we may as well have done because afterwards it made no difference. It made no difference to the fact that we were now on a new
level, one from which there was no turning back, and it made no difference to Johnny when I eventually told him – he was just as hurt and angry.
Carl orchestrated the whole thing. One morning, I kissed Johnny goodbye while he was in the bathroom, and stepped out of our front door to Carl, who was waiting for me right outside in the work
car, engine running, music playing. There was a long drive and a full day of meetings or presentations, about which I remember nothing. Knowing that it was going to be too late and too far to
travel back home, Carl had arranged for us to stay at the house of a friend of his, who I also knew vaguely through work. This friend had one spare room with a double bed in it, which I was to
have.
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