“So, there’s a train strike planned for Monday,” I tell Seb when he calls yesterday. “So, um, what shall I do about returning home?”
“Why don’t you book a train ticket to go back on Sunday night then?” He says. “I need to work on Monday – I’ve just discovered that I do have exams in all three of my subjects after all and…”
“OK,” I say, thinking why doesn’t he want me to stay on Sunday night as well. He should want to spend every last minute with me. But I don’t say this. Am not going to let him use me as an excuse as to why he’s screwing up his course and so on. Still feel a bit hurt though, even if it’s silly.
“I won’t do any work if you’re here,” he says, and, again, I would be able to do work if he was with me. Have Done Work when in the company of a boy before. When was seeing Laszlo the Hungarian academic we used to do our reading and writing together, even if that was the only good thing about our interactions.
“It will be better for you to get a proper night’s sleep on Sunday before a day of work,” I say. We never sleep much when we’re together, what with my night sweats and his sleepwalking and we’re both light sleepers these days.
Am an hour and fifteen minutes early for my lunch meeting so am writing this outside a pub at the home of cricket. It’s noisy: there’s some cricket happening. It’s a convivial atmosphere and a warm, sunny day. Over there is a chap with red trousers >>> And there are a couple of Australian chaps sitting next to me. A couple of red Ferraris growl past.
Still haven’t managed to complete any of yesterday’s tasks. On the plus side, have booked train ticket to see my Seb. It took ages. Suzie made supper and hung up the washing, brother bought some food and Mum changed my bed, so a few items have been ticked off despite my lack of effort.
Anyway, a thing of beauty is a joy forever so have attached a Land Rover Defender for you. He lives near the flat.
Happy Thursday everyone!
*1977. By George McDonald Fraser. Flashman – the bully from Tom Brown’s Schooldays – plays at Lords