London. The Hilton June 2nd 2008

June 2nd 2008. London.

I hate London. 

I can’t breath in London.

I arrive home with Evil and Maisie and the house smells damp.  The kitchen floor is crunchy with crumbs. There are tea splashes on the stairs. 

‘Well,’ says Abigail ‘I certainly haven’t spilt any crumbs because I don’t actually eat stuff that makes them.’

‘There’s nothing in the house to eat anyway.’ says Zac. ‘Why doesn’t anyone ever buy any food?’

‘Are there tea splashes?’ says John. ‘I hadn’t noticed. They come off don’t they?’

‘Can you order an Ocado shop?’ says Zac.

‘Why does the whole house smell so horrible?’ I say. ‘Why is it that every time I go away, I come back to a grotty house with an over-flowing laundry basket, no food and a vile smell?’

I unpack. Then I pack again. 

‘Actually.’ I say ‘I’ve had enough of this. I am leaving and I am going to live all by myself and you lot can live in a foetid dump if you want to. I really can’t tolerate it.’ 

Before I go I decide I had better wipe up the tea splashes on the stairs.

I look under the kitchen sink for some Vanish Oxyten Carpet Magic and discover the source of the smell. The tap has leaked all over the cupboard and turned Evil’s Marky Dog Treats to a Mouldering Mush.

I drive round to Ellis’s house. 

‘Come in, come in.’ says Ellis. What’s the matter? What’s he done now?’

I explain about the Mouldy Mush and the Crumbs and the Laundry and the Lesbians in Mousehole.

Ellis and me go to the Corner Shop and we buy some wine. We sit on Ellis’s bed and his Youngest curls up on my lap like a little cat.

I love Ellis’s Youngest.

I tell Ellis about my Very Attractive Brother and the Facism. My phone rings but it’s John so I don’t answer it.

I tell Ellis about the Chest Pain and the Endless Slog. 

Ellis tells me that the back of his house has cracked and that the Builder has not liased with the Engineer to the extent that the Engineer has not allowed for the fact that Ellis needs stairs to access his basement. 

I suggest a Fireman’s Pole.

‘How could that happen?’ says Ellis. ‘How could anyone not imagine that we would be needing stairs to access our new kitchen?’

‘I’m going to have to leave home.’ I say ‘Where shall I go?’ I say.

I go home. 

I sleep in the Spare Room.

Tuesday June 3rd 2008.

Hilton

I go to live in The Hilton in Islington. I don’t take my sunglasses off when I check in.

‘I haven’t booked.’ I say.

‘What’s the name?’ asks the Receptionist.

I tell her. I am very tired.

‘Having a tough day are you?’ says The Receptionist.

I tell her I am very tired.

‘I can’t find your name here.’ says The Receptionist. ‘Are you, perhaps, booked under your Company Name?’

‘I haven’t booked.’ I say ‘I just need a room.’ I say.

‘Oh.’ says The Receptionist. ‘No wonder I couldn’t find you on The System. You haven’t booked.’

‘No.’ I say.

I don’t like living at The Hilton.

John phones me.

‘Where on earth are you?’ he says.

I refuse to tell him. Zac and Abigail refuse too.

Ellis phones. ‘What are you doing?’ he says ‘You could have come to stay with me.’

Betty phones. ‘The Hilton?’ she says ‘Wow, I normally end up sleeping in the car when Digby annoys me to that extent.’

‘I’ve done that.’ I say ‘It’s too cold and my car is very uncomfortable.’

The Hilton is very uncomfortable too. 

I flip channels on the TV. 

I watch Robert De Niro being creepy in a cellar. I flip again, Sky News, again, and a grainy, realistic shot of American Policemen circling a bloodied corpse appears. 

I feel quite freaked out. 

Is this deliberate? 

Is the selection of free Hilton TV Channels chosen to force vulnerable Hilton Guests into watching Pay As You View Disney films? 

Is the Atomic Weight of Lithium 6.941?