February 27th, 1990

February 27th, 1990

At  home

Had it not been for a certain someone spoiling my night, I’d have said this was one of my better birthdays.

Jojo came over and surprised me early this morning, with baby Hannah, who is, by far, the sweetest, most beautiful baby ever. I’d have been happy cuddling her all day, chatting to Jojo, who makes motherhood look like the most natural thing in the world. I can’t imagine there’ll come a time in my life when things will fall into place in such a way but who knows.

In between chatting to mum and dad, opening cards, presents and eating cake (yum) I spent a lot of time on the phone:

Lorna – “You need to get yourself over here to Holland, missy and get your claws in one or more of these Dutch hunks!” She also sent, as only Lorna would, a birthday telegram.

Annabel – “I left you a little something in your mail slot at work.” When I asked what, she replied, “It’s cashmere darling, that’s all I’m willing to say.” Oh, how I miss Annabel.

Pamsy – “We’re the same age! Well, for another few months ‘til I turn twenty-four.”

Laney – “I can’t believe you went to Paris not once, but twice and didn’t bother telling me. You had better not go back and see that little creep.”

Stephen – “Happy birthday! Now get your flamenco frock on and dance the night away!”

David – He rang tonight while I was out. What a shame I missed him but the two, sweet, kiss filled birthday cards he sent arrived in the morning post. “Presents when you come to LA!” he wrote. Oh goodie!

Jon – “In honour of your birthday McGarr, I’m coming over to take you out for drinks and either a late lunch or a ridiculously early dinner.” I appreciated him making such an effort to come all this way for just a couple of hours and I have to say, it was lovely catching up with him. As always, he looks great and we had a lot of laughs.

A few minutes after Jon dropped me off, Ben rang. I stupidly agreed to go pick him up and with no plans in place, I drove around aimlessly for about an hour before deciding to go to our favourite Indian restaurant in Stony Stratford.

Ben asked what I’d been doing all day so I started filling him in. After I mentioned Jon, he became very quiet and wouldn’t look at me. Not surprisingly, the onion bhaji’s (usually my favourite) tasted awful.

The silence continued until I could no longer stand it.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

Hoping for at least some semblance of a conversation, I continued. “What have you been doing recently?”

“I’ve been applying for different jobs,” he said, surprising me.

“With the same company?”

“Nah,” he shrugged. “My days as a holiday rep are over. It’s time for a change.”

“Good for you. What sort of jobs have you been applying for?”

“Airline stuff.”

“Like ground staff?” I asked.

“No, definitely not that,” he said, in a defiant tone.

“Then what?”

“Crew. I’m applying to British Airways to be long haul cabin crew.”

Shit.

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