was when I left my Armani sunglasses on the side of a quay and then T accidentally kicked them into the sea. I dived in to save them but they got lodged in a deep crevice between rocks and I could see that the danger of trapping my wrist and thereby drowning was not the way to go. ‘He died trying to save his shades,’ has entirely the wrong ring of pathos about it. I have never been able to find another pair just like them, they were steel rimmed with thin wire arms, along the lines of an Aviator, but very distinct from that exact style.
In better news, Old Stokie, Swiss Tony who was 40, Mr Pink, Grey-Man, Grey-Man’s two boys Statts* and Joe (*who can tell you who Nigeria’s keeper plays for at club level without missing a beat), and Grey-Man’s border terrier Pip have been on the eastside for the weekend. Mr Pink arrived on his ferocious motorbike, which he likes to keep with him at all times in case something terrible happens to it while he’s away from S-o-T, such as it being accidentally kicked into the sea. We had tremendous larks except for one especially trying game of association football. Pip howled at Greeno’s blunder thereby frightening Dylan even more than she was already frightening him by being a terrifying 7-inch high Cheshire babe (though in my view she does look a bit like Galen’s wife from the original Planet of the Apes, which might have had something to do with it.)
It doesn’t matter how many times I lick his ankle, he flat refuses to be my boyfriend, the big wuss
I suppose I’ll just have to content myself with guarding Mr Pink’s crash-hat instead