London. 15th April 2008.

We catch a train with hours to spare and come back to London. 

London is beautiful. The roads are splatter painted with pink cherry blossom. The trees are bright with new green leaves and the rain has washed all the dog pooh off the pavements.

When we get home the house is very clean and tidy and Abigail is as thin as a stick. 

Tomorrow John is flying to Nashville to interview Jack White and he phones from work to ask me if I know where his passport is.

Wednesday 16th April 2008. 

John rings me from Newark.

‘Where?’ I say.

‘Newark.’ he says.

‘New York ?’ I say.

‘Newark.’ he says ‘I’ve been travelling forever and I still have to fly to Nashville. The security is apalling, It takes hours to do anything or get anywhere. Have I left my high blood pressure pills on the bedside table?’

I am having a lovely time. It is very peaceful when John isn’t here. I lie diagonally across the bed at night and Buddy sleeps on John’s pillow.