Sleepy in Brighton

I’m a yoyo again. Bouncing back to Brighton for the day. I’m exhausted and don’t want to think or talk but Lou is glad to see me so I’m probably coming across as grumpy as all I really want to do is nothing in silence. Tomorrow morning I’m driving the cat to the vet. That is my purpose. Then I’m straight back up to London.

I woke up at 5 still a bit zoned from the drugs and shortly afterwards I woke up a surprisingly game Tristan and we drove to Chelsea and Westminster hospital to pick up Bergman from the side street where he had been sleeping. A quick goodbye to Tristan and then I floored it and made it out to Northolt for 8am only to discover that there’s been an error and I’m expected tomorrow morning not today. That’s that job down the pan then. They’ve found a replacement. I was kinda glad not to have to do it even though I wanted the money. I drove slowly to Brighton instead.

Lou had a lunch date with some female friends at The Ivy, so I studiously avoided getting invited to join them despite the good food – you know, so Lou could happily talk about whatever arcane things the ladies discuss behind closed doors. Instead I thought I’d give Bergman a little treat for all his hard work of late and I took him to be valeted. It’s not a full service like he needs – that’ll come in good time. Just a nice scrub. He got a proper shining inside and out. He’s looking and smelling much more salubrious now. It took them fucking ages though, so while Lou was howling in The Ivy with the ladies I was freezing my ass off in a concrete car park by ASDA waiting for the noisy bugger to finish shining my wheels. It would have been warmer and cheaper to’ve done it myself. But sometimes it’s nice to have people do a thing for you.

The weather today was a flash of hope. There were moments when I felt something close to warmth outside, standing in the sun. If they hadn’t taken so long I would’ve been able to keep in the sun, but by the time they finished it was half four and it was an orb falling into the sea again. Ciao Sol.

I drove to the lanes and grabbed a quick carbonara and a glass of Montepulciano and just as I was finishing Lou rang to say she was done at The Ivy and I chauffeured the ladies home in my newly spruced whip.

Now it’s bedtime. It’s nine. It’s bedtime. My feet are cold and I crave oblivion. I just had a lovely hot bath. Great to spend time with Lou and if we are sleeping then I won’t have to think.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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