My Spanish cousin, Constanzia, phones.
Constanzia is very glamorous. She has long tar-black hair and pale green eyes.
Constanzia is in London.
‘Can we meet in Covent garden?’ she says. ‘I’m in London for British Airways showing a bunch of Spanish travel agents around. I’ll have about an hour free. Can we have lunch together?’
I drive home from the Hilton. The sun is shining.
John stands in the kitchen.
‘Did you sleep well, where you’ve been?’ he asks.
‘No.’ I say ‘I had a dream.’
‘’Whatever your dream was, it wasn’t a very happy one, was it?’ says John.
‘No.’ I say.
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ says John.
‘Yes John, you always have.’ I say.
John says ‘You’ve been a long way away.’
‘Yes.’ I say.
‘Thank you for coming back to me.’ says John.
I love John. He’s so funny.
Later, I meet Constanzia in Covent Garden.
She is wearing black patent high heeled boots with gold straps.
We mooch about in ‘Urban Outfitters.’We walk up and down Neil Street. We buy tops in ‘Happee Loves It’ and tap shoes for Maisie in ‘Dance Fantastic’ on Drury Lane.
I tell Constanzia about John and me.
‘I know.’ she says ‘It’s awful when that happens. There really is no where you can go, is there? You can’t inflict the whole thing on other people. I usually end up driving round and round in Barcelona in the middle of the night feeling furious.’
We have lunch in a Vegan cafe in Neil’s Yard. A mother asks us if we mind her changing her baby’s nappy at the next table as she’s reluctant to do it in the loo.
I say ‘Of course we don’t mind.’
And of course we don’t.
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