7

I slipped, didn't I, right onto my backside. Must've looked a right
prat. A car passed and hooted me just as I was turning into the front
gate. I was deep in thought and it scared the daylights out of me, it
was so loud. It kept on hooting as it went on over the hill. I don't
know anyone round here with a flash car like that. I don't know anyone
around here at all, come to think of it.
I've got a packet of ten, that's two cigarettes an hour until Les
arrives. I've got to be careful, mustn't get over-excited, don't want
to be climbing up the walls. I need some sort of diversion. Perhaps I
should pick up that book. No, I'm too anxious for literature, I
wouldn't be able to concentrate. Perhaps a little lie-down on the
floor, a little sleep. This coat will keep me warm and so will the
radio. I'll re-pack those boxes in a while. God, I made a terrible job
of those ceilings.
Pip, Pip, Pip, Pip, Pip. The ten o'clock news. Warming and cosy.
It was freezing out there, slippery and silent. Why does snow bring on
quietness? There was hardly anyone about, it was as if I had the world
to myself. The snow's still falling. The sky's full of it. It might go
on for hours. I love it.
I hated phoning that Jason. He was not sympathetic. It went something
like this:
"Hi, Jason. It's Chris from, um, Shernhall Street. How's it
going?"
"Chris, mate! You out yet? Don't forget the keys; you can ski down here
with them if you want."
"Well I would if I could, Jason, but there's been a hitch, only a
little one."
"What?"
"Well, my removal man is stuck in the snow. He says it's chaos in
Wandsworth. He's going to be a bit delayed."
"What?"
"Yeah, but it will be alright. He's still coming and everything."
"Fuck's sake, Chris. How long is he going to be?"
"It's really snowing out here, it's amazing isn't it? Reminds me of
when I was?"
"How long, Chris?"
"Oh, not long. I actually don't mind this weather, do you? We don't get
enough snow these?"
"How fucking long, Chris?"
"About two hours."
"Right, If you're not out of there by half twelve, I'm coming round to
get those keys from you. Is that clear?"
"Oh yeah, Jason. No problem."
"Fine."
Why did I lie to him? I not supposed to do that anymore. Fear, I guess.
I'm so weak sometimes. I've achieved nothing. I've made it worse.
There were two text messages on my mobile. I can't respond to them, no
credit. One was from a comedian asking for a gig. I've stopped running
the club; he'll hear that from someone else soon enough. Shame, he's an
up-and-comer and he deserves all the encouragement he can get. Still,
comedians are not my problem anymore. The other text message was from
her. She didn't say anything, just five kisses. That's no good to me.
What kind of communication is that when I am in this mess? I tried to
call her from the phone box but all I got was a ringing tone.