In This Hiatus, Getting to Quentin’s House Warming

While waiting to see if the compost bin will be delivered on the 14 June, I’m keeping you apprised of what else has been doing, Quentin’s house-warming for starters. 

His buzzer wasn’t working, his prospective guests were warned and to have their phones at the ready.  I don’t have a phone.  I do have a lover who has a phone and wants to be my partner.  I asked him to the party.  He declined, “There’ll be other times.”  He doesn’t know me very well if he thinks that.  Do you want to know how the problem was solved?  You’ve got this far. 

After my declining lover, getting my glasses repaired at Boots, I set off with champagne, cava, a cactus and lots of reduced gluten-free food.  It was all going sedately.  I confirmed the train at London Bridge would stop at New X Gate.  It did stop.  The doors wouldn’t open.  We rushed to the next doors up which wouldn’t open either.  We sped on to the next in the next carriage, by which time the train was no longer stopped.  The woman attendant swore blind all the doors had opened; she’d stepped out on the platform and seen it.  We must’ve pressed the ‘close’ button.  We bloody hell had not and we were each other’s witness to the fact the doors hadn’t opened.  They did next station down. 

While we waited to get back, my companion asked where I was going in New X Gate.  John Williams Close.  “Why are you laughing?”  That’s where he was going.  It’s a big close; which house he asked.  He laughed again.  That’s where he lived.  Question is: if the doors had opened and let us out at New X Gate, would he have taken me to the block where he’d  have a phone to call Quentin for me or in fact an outside door key to let me in?  I think not except I already knew from his asking somebody else if the train went to New X Gate that that’s where he was going and was quite likely to ask if he knew how to get to John Williams Close but that I did have a rough idea how to get to.  How very convenient though was the doors not opening.  I insisted Johnson come in for a glass of champagne and Quentin now knows a neighbour though he does have Gareth close to hand.   

I should stop there but can’t get rid of tags I’ve already added, so, briefly: Yvann came up to watch Scott and Bailey and I think I was teaching him to count.  Thomas said he wasn’t serving some dislikable customer, giving me an opening, “You did that to me.  Are we going to talk about our moment of revulsion?”  Repulsion really but ‘revulsion’ was the word I spoke.  “There’ll be time for it,” he said.  And nine cactus flowers are close to opening.

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About johnbrucecairns

I'm a retired history teacher who's written for most of his life with a book readied for publication.
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3 Responses to In This Hiatus, Getting to Quentin’s House Warming

  1. jesuisaudrey says:

    Sounds like quite the ordeal! I hope the house warming party was fun at least.

    Like

  2. It was but undramatic, not enough to make a story from as I said at the time.

    Like

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