‘Stories of Johnny’ – Marc Almond
I don’t think last night’s ‘revision’ helped my Mock. But I knew a lot of what I was on about, I suppose. Alas, I don’t think I’ll pass the bugger.
As for Justine: she’s gotten mysterious. I said ‘hello’ to her today and she looked really fed up. I asked her what was wrong. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘I just feel pissed off.’ I didn’t pursue the matter any further, but I assumed it was something to do with Leighton. I’ll come back to Justine later.
Suz and I were talking this afternoon. I mentioned Vikki and how her life had changed since she chucked her boyfriend. Suz was agreeing with me when Vikki turned up. We told her we’d just been talking about her, and Vikki said to Suz, ‘Yes, love’s a funny thing.’
Then she looked at me and said, ‘Oi, Suz, have you told him about…’
Then she stopped in realisation and bent to whisper something in Suz’s ear. I asked them what they’d said, but they cheerfully told me it was nothing to do with me. I pursued it no further.
‘Brown Book’ – Death In June
Then Justine turned up, while I was getting tons of people to write messages in my little black Punch ‘memo’ ‘diary’. Justine’s already done one message, but I asked her to write another.
She took the book and pen from me and said, ‘Oh, I can’t think of anything to write…’
‘Oh, go on,’ I said. ‘You can.’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘there is something I do want to write, but I can’t.’
‘What?’ I asked.
‘Does. What is it?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
And that was that. No further words. She went and got on her bus.
And all week we’ve been really nice to each other, dead personable and intimate. Closer. Happier. Funnier. Perhaps we’re close to what we nearly had before. Was she trying to tell me something? I’ll have to see.
Well, at least life’s taken that lovely twist. As usual. Hmmmmm.
‘The Things That Dreams Are Made Of’ – Human League
It is fair to state here that Suz and I get on really well now, but Mary seems distant. And Astra’s nice. Roger’s okay, I suppose. Actually, it’s our ‘anniversary’ tomorrow. All this week, I’ve hardly uttered a word to Anastasia, Lush and Amelia. And I don’t know why. There’s some kind of psychological block there. I just have no words. So I must compose a letter to Amelia. I don’t want to lose her. Gemma – Mary’s friend – wrote to me, inviting me to a party in Fakenham. I doubt that I’ll go. I’m hoping to be a bit of a recluse for a while. I have no real ‘going out’ desire…
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Next time: ‘Futures…’