I went for foil to put the sardines on to grill without losing their oil. There was none. He’d used up the foil, for only the one purpose, smoking, and broken our agreement. I’d ask for the keys back and moved the back-up key kept outdoors. He could pack and sleep on Duggie’s sofa. I needed to sleep on this. Or I could’ve wondered when the foil would run out, whereupon it did, and I’d forgotten to replace it. Suspicion left me.

He returned to ask was it all right he went with Duggie to Aldershot next morning at six. He could just’ve gone. He didn’t want me worrying if he hadn’t come back. “Don’t ignore me,” he said. I said I was indifferent, flat, fed up; it was going on too long. He said he was off the heroin and had stopped stealing and couldn’t be doing more to find work, Duggie his best option. “Don’t give up on me.” “You’ll be sleeping on Duggie’s sofa.” He wouldn’t go if I didn’t want him to. “Go with it,” I said. “It’ll be a break for both of us.” I saw him off at the station and would’ve gone on with him if I hadn’t forgotten my pass on re-dressing to go out.

I lay in till 10:25 next morning. I hadn’t been taking my brazil nuts for the selenium. I feel fine.

Notice that I’d thought of Duggie’s sofa. My suspicion was erroneous but the reality behind it was my need for a break from John in order to restore myself, and he provided the opportunity with his going to Aldershot with Duggie. I can’t but believe my own man was behind this, working in his mysterious ways to help me go on with what after all is my by him appointed job. John’s finding work – or not – will be part of the plan I’m re-enabled to go along with to see it through. I’ve moved the spare key back.


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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