dddk - part 2 - five go-old rings

five go-old rings…

Was it a chill, or an ill wind that insisted passage through the dusk dim alley? Nellie pondered awhile. It couldn’t be that late, but already shadows lengthened and bones bent; feeble defences folding under persistent assault from the inevitable creeping numbs.

It’s almost blank space, she hummed; the emptiness that hunches between Christmas and Resolution Way.

The emptiness that stalks.

She stretches; rolling her head in a slow wincing arc as booted feet point up footlight, and she turns.

« on the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... »

Even the Pepys Estate is quiet.

David has a touch of lost…

« I’m fucking freezing. Mum’s buggered off out; she aint left no coins for the meter - no coins full bloody stop. Might as well be down the arch shivering as here on me own. Is this what he meant, being a man? Fucks sake Prof, come back.

I haven’t touched a thing for two days now. I should go and tell Nell, put a smile on her face. Trouble is Shell’d be straight on me back. Doing my bloody head in she is. After brown now. Some asshole on the estate give her some didn’t he, wanker. She’s in a right bloody mess. Finished the walls and that’s finished her she reckons. T.T. said « Thank bloody christ for that » and caught an empty can on the side of her head for her trouble. Beautiful blue she’s got now. Bloody miracle Nell managed to stop her steaming in. But I don’t think even she’s gonna be able to keep them apart for that much longer. I said I’d help; but what am I sposed to do?

I’d bell The Hobbit if I had any credit left.

Might be worth nipping down The Dew, there’s more than a one owes me a few quid. Always possible Santa Claus filled a stocking or two.

Old Ma’ll put a pint on the slate, course she will; Christmas spirit an all that. Yeah, see if I can’t even wangle a bottle or two for the girls while I‘m at it. »

Calm rows of detached English castles huddle apart. Suburban Sydenham can feel quite blank all the year long.

As the oil drips and fires through the guts of a dust free boiler, Elizabeth can‘t quite work it out. Who really judges the Judge?

«If she rustles her daily mail at me one more time, I swear I’ll ram it down her bloody throat. Dad’s as pathetic as ever. Anyone would think I’d planned moving back the way they’re carrying on. I’m gasping for a cup of tea; but I am not going back down to that kitchen until she’s out of it.

It’s amazing, they’ve not touched this room since I left. Not difficult to see how nuts I was about Duran Duran. Creepy though, Simon Le Bon leering down at me from every wall. Avoidance Lizzy, those eyes don’t see real stuff. No me stuff; no what am I doing stuff. No what have I done stuff. No what the hell am I supposed to stuffing do next stuff.

I can’t believe they suspended me. I didn’t hit him hard. The dirty old sod was asking for it; you should have heard what he said to me. Of course Dan was his usual sympathetic self, « I know how difficult things have been for you, adjusting and everything, » Like what does he know about losing your baby, your leg, your house, your husband? « But really Liz, » he stammers on, « this isn’t an isolated incident, the situation has been deteriorating for some time now. » He even suggested I get some help! « You’ll still be on full pay while your case is reviewed. Look on it as an extended Christmas holiday, a chance to get yourself sorted out. » « A chance to look for another job. » I yelled, slamming an armful of case notes onto his pristine desk. What the hell made me go into social work ? Bunch of smug, self righteous prigs and that includes you Keith.

He’s going out with a nurse. Doesn’t take them long does it. Always said he needed a mother not a wife. Well I just hope she knows what she’s letting herself in for; after a long days slog on the geriatric ward coming home to yet another shitty bottom won’t be fun for long.

« Snap out of it. » says mother. « Pull yourself together. »
« Sorry Mum, not possible, I’ve lost some of the bits. » I’ve only been back a fortnight but I’m regressing at a rate of knots.

Oh put the bloody doll down. I should never have taken it.

« No Mother, I don’t want a bowl of soup. »

Down by the Cutty Sark; wisely eschewing maritime pedagogy in favour of pub snugs, the few tourists tug on wittily tagged tankards; the ale is very real in Greenwhich.

Shell appears to be having some difficulty striking fah.

Soh?

Surely we’ve all been stuck on me at some time or another?

« I can’t get warm. This is stupid. I’m gonna have to make my way back. I can’t even hold the pencil anymore. Well she’s going to have to be happy with a couple of cans of special brew. I didn’t ask her to give me anything.

Oh Nell, I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do. I’m so scared.

She give me and T.T. these Christmas presents see, wrapped up an everything. She’s studying my hands as I tear back the paper. I look up at her from the beautiful Conté pad and box of extra fine rotring pens; and she’s got so much hope in her eyes. But it’s not enough. I still feel totally alone. I’m her hope; but I wouldn’t know if I was looking straight at it, mine. I don’t know what to draw; It’s too dark. I’m too cold.

I wonder if Dave’ll be there when I get back. He might have something.

But Dave is on destiny’s highway and that is in the direction of neither the arches, ‘the skagfeast of the festive casualty’ at Hobbits, or City Hospital.

Where Barry is facing up to the fact that he might well be buggered..

« Well that’s that then. This time tomorrow I should be in the hospital wing of Brixton nick. They’ve pressed charges. Remand, I have been informed, is a necessary formality. Despite categorical dna evidence it could take six months to come to trial. Bastards.

Bitch.

I suppose I shall have to bid my fond farewells to the silly old arse in the next ward. Nah, I shouldn’t slag him, even if he is a poncy git. Bought me that packet of fags didn’t he. « I just don’t seem to have the ears for popular music. » He says yesterday. And cop this, he’s never heard of me. Well; takes all sorts.

I don’t wanna go down. They’ll have me you know; in there.

T.T. meanwhile, has been putting all her phones in one Basket. But it’s a funny place Deptford; the optimism may hang from high branches, but strong shoulders can usually be found for a leg up.

« She’s beautiful, she’s beautiful, she’s beautiful, she’s beautiful.

What a lovely thing to do. That Nellie is an absolute angel. Got a china face and everything she has. Reckons she’s been looking on the market for weeks, just about given up hope and then she falls on her, last Tuesday. «There it was just looking up at me. » She says. Found her on that lovely Carol’s fifty pence pile she did. « Couldn’t believe me luck. » « Can’t believe my luck, » I says right back, « having a mate like you. »

« What you gonna call her then T? » Pipes up Shell. Thought she was being sarcastic at first, but funny enough, she weren’t. I looked at her dead hard like and she just dropped her eyes and did that going all little thing she does. So I says « I don’t know yet. » And I don’t. She aint a Becky. I don’t want another Becky.

Took the phone round to Dads last week. It was gleaming. Wrapped it up in quite a clean brown paper bag. I put it in front of the door, rang the bell, then legged it back down the stairs. Time I got round the back of the bins and looked up, he was on the balcony with it in his hands. I watched the light catch as he balanced it in the crook of his arm and scratched about in the bottom of the bag. I hadn’t thought of putting a note in. He steps closer to the edge and looks down; his eyes sliding till they weed me out, squeezed into the corner of the stairwell. I try a little smile. Without looking down to see who he might be about to flatten he tosses it over, turns back round and slams the door behind him.

Well I dunno about you, but I didn’t think there was much I could say to that now, was there. So I came home.

I been looking for something I could wrap up for Nell today, no luck for me though. Still, got a few quid left from me Christmas bonus. I shall pop by Roystons on me way back, pick us up a bottle of bird or two, that should keep the chill out.

See Old Dog on the green earlier; he reckons we’re in for a cold snap. « I do hope not. » I said to him, « The way the winds nibbling my arse at the moment I don’t quite know what I’d do if it started snapping. »