A few days later, my editor rang me, her voice ringing with optimism. And also, surely the celebration of anniversaries was anathema to the upper classes in the days of Downton? She took one look at me, leapt on me, and settled down, staring into my eyes as if we shared a hidden secret he probably was wishing me dead so that she could acquire the house, but no matter. So I emailed the other appointment. And yes, we did get university grants.
But before I completely lost it, they assured they would go away and have another think. You know how it is. Two years passed and, again, nothing. I have written in clear letters beside my bell, the words: Even I as a young girl was sent to the fishmongers on hot days to get slabs of ice for our ice-box. Until a few years ago, I always had cats. Some of my best friends walk. As this was a major operation, we only did it every three months or so, so the smell was terrible. I had thought his judgement was good, but clearly it is absolutely hopeless. I was about to bicycle to the Oldie offices carrying this egg when the egg broke all over the bicycle seat. I would be drummed out of town. I was just making a cup of tea when the bell rang. I will send out hundreds of cards and inside I shall insert an honest newsletter — describing the retinal detachment that went so wrong, the anticipated operations for new knees and shoulders, the disastrous run at Edinburgh and the plans for euthanasia. We sometimes took him round the block at night on a string, and on one occasion I even discovered him, on opening the lavatory door, sitting on the loo, ears back, and having a very dignified pee. But then along came a peculiar day called Black Friday. True, I have never made a scientific discovery while dreaming or, indeed, had the verses of a great poem revealed to me in a dream, like Coleridge after a dose of opium. Just to show them. I was picked up in the morning by a nice lady from the theatre and delivered to Penrith station where I found the train cancelled. Will you get a seat? Lucky black cats had to be ignored. They are often directed by excellent directors and, if not Oscar-winning, would certainly make good shorts at the Sundance Festival. Larium, the anti-malarial drug that I took on going to South Africa, gave me nightmares of such horror that I would rather have stayed at home and missed seeing the giraffes and elephants and monkeys in a nature reserve than experience them again. He or she was alone in the world. With a tense smile she allowed me my nightdress. No scientific proof, might as well juggle ping pong balls, but many swore by her. It may all be in my mind, but what a difference kindness makes! Round one to her.
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