January 8th, 1990
On reflection, I should probably have stayed at Pamsy’s but I got it in my head that I wanted to come home, a decision I regretted the minute I drove through the first heavy band of fog, that only worsened with each mile.
Pamsy and I popped over to Eastbourne this afternoon and suffered through Kylie Minogue in “The Delinquents.” We agreed that Kylie ought to just stick to singing. To cheer ourselves up afterwards, we popped into Wipeout to see who was working. Ollie was there and he and Pamsy flirted heavily while I pretended to look at the wetsuits. The pair of them have such good chemistry, much more than Ollie appears to have with his girlfriend, Helen, or as we call her, Hell In. She really is a nightmare and I have no idea how Ollie got tied up with her let alone moved in with her. Then again, anything love related rarely makes sense to me!
Mum couldn’t wait to tell me; “David and an English sounding guy, who said his name was Jack, phoned.”
“Are you going to phone David back?”
“I will at some point.”
“He’ll still be at work if you phone him now.”
“Yes mum, I know that.”
“I told him you’d phone him back.”
“And I will. Just not right now.”
She sighed. “Who’s this Jack character?”
“I met him on New Year’s Eve.”
“Oh, at that posh party?”
“Yes mum, at the posh party but he isn’t posh.”
“Aye, he sounded like he’s from a rough part of London.”
I laughed. “Oh, mum, honestly. What did he have to say?”
“No much, just that he was sorry he missed ye.”
“I don’t remember but David was telling me…”
“Mum! I’ll get back to David when I’m ready.”
“Uff, you’re awful crabbit,” she said getting up off the couch.
“I’m tired from driving for over four hours in heavy fog.”
“Then you should go to your bed.”
“Sorry I’m so grumpy, I hate driving as it is and, wait, Jack didn’t happen to leave his phone number, did he?”
“Aye,” she sighed, heading into the hall.
“Eh, what did you do with it?” I called out.
“I put it under the phone.”