The Winterfood Diaries

The Winterfood Diaries

Saturday, 11 March 1989

Another Natalia Moment


1am

 

‘Move Away’ – Culture Club

)

 

Dearest Diary…  THE COMEDY IS OVER.

 

REPLY TO MY LETTER, NATALIA.

 

Later:

10.30am

 

‘Can’t Stay Away From You’ – Gloria Estefan

)

 

My bedroom’s a mess + so am I. 

 

I’m working at home today, not at Freddie’s lorry yard.  I work at Freddie’s every Saturday morning in case you didn’t know, loading and sorting pallets, but today I’m moving junk.

 

I want to see Natalia so much, it’s a deep yearning.  But I don’t want the flimsy, uncomfortable chitchat of BACCHALLY’S.  I want depth.

 

I want to see her so much.

 

Later:

6.15pm

 

‘She Drives Me Crazy’ – Fine Young Cannibals

)

 

There was a connection between the eyes.  And a little more that I needed to say.  A great deal more, in fact.  I didn’t have the courage.  And she knew it.  She must have felt it.  And me, little me … I JUST DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY!

 

I DIDN’T KNOW WHERE THE HELL TO BEGIN!

 

‘DO YOU FEEL LIKE 1988?’

 

I do.  The smell of Lou Lou on my shirt makes time shift + phase in my brain.

 

Later:

 

‘Like A Prayer’ – Madonna

)

 

Today, after work, I went into Wisbech just so I could go to BACCHALLY’S and see Natalia.

 

Once inside, I purchased coffee and felt annoyed that she was nowhere to be seen.  After a long while, though, there she suddenly was.  She gave my hair a surprised look, but said she liked it (though I felt as if she didn’t).  It was lovely to see her and, as Madonna’s ‘Like A Prayer’ played, I felt suddenly vulnerable; weak and tender.  I felt like Natalia owned my heart, ruled it.  I felt like her possession.  She apologised for not being in touch + thanked me for the letter I sent her the other day.  She did note, however, that it felt like I was saying: ‘Oh well, you’re a right bitch, but never mind; I forgive you’.  I said I was sorry if it sounded abrupt or harsh.  It might have read like that, but I didn’t mean it to.

 

She asked me which weekdays were best for me, so we might meet up.  I said I could arrange any, as long as she gave me good warning.

 

I want to see her all the time, to tell you the truth.  That said, she’s going to France two weeks on Tuesday.  And then I’ll not see her; I’ll lose her yet again and that’ll be that.  After that, she’ll be off to Essex University or wherever she goes…

 

‘The Crystal Ship’ – The Doors

)

 

It felt strange to see her.  I’ve listened to The Doors a lot lately and ‘The Crystal Ship’ crept into my brain once Madonna had finished.  And it’s good to know Nat still likes The Doors.

 

As I downed my coffee, she finished work + offered me a lift home in her car.  I eagerly accepted.

 

In the car, driving along Lord’s Lane and Cross Drove – looking at the huge blue sky + the beautiful trees – I don’t think things had ever felt quite so strange.  I was with Natalia again and it felt like summer 1988.  I wanted to say so much more + admitted as much.

 

‘Why don’t you?’ she said.

 

Where do we stand with each other, I wondered.  ‘I can’t,’ I said.  ‘I feel like I have to save it all for when we get some real time together.’

 

We pulled up in the driveway of Blackberry Narrow, then sat in the car, watching as Chip ran out to play in the garden.  ‘God,’ said Nat, ‘I can’t believe how much he’s grown.’  Then our eyes met.  ‘It just proves how long…’ she muttered.  I smiled at her, thinking only wonderful things; things I’ve often thought.  My mind was crying out to me.  And ‘The Crystal Ship’ was playing over and over.

 

‘Look,’ I said.  ‘I feel so full of it right now, now that I’ve seen you.  Like I can’t contain myself.  Like a volcano about to erupt.  I think I’d better go.’

 

‘Okay,’ she said, looking concerned.  ‘I’ll write back tomorrow.’

 

‘It was great to see you again,’ I said, almost choking.

 

‘You too,’ she replied with a melancholy that made me want to take her in my arms + kiss her.

 

When she drove off, we waved, smiled, and my eyes followed her into the distance until she was completely gone.

 





 

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Next time: ‘Back to Gallifrey…’

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