The air feels like Christmas.
The lights in Oxford Street, FRANKS coffee shop off Carnaby Street, the Number 19 bus. Everything felt like it was poised for something new.
Mind you one cup of Frank’s coffee and I’m full of beans – no pun intended – and I go dulally tap…I could scale Mount Etna, or is it Eiger, WHATEVER!!!
I spent this morning shuffling around in my clean flat, meditating, washing, dressing, then set off to walk to Victoria before heading off to the office in Farringdon. My muse texted me and told me to get my arse down to the office as soon as possible so I jumped on the bus instead.
Yesterday I took the Circle line – forget it – it took ages. Today I took the Victoria Line to Kings Cross, delicious station full of French people arriving from The Eurostar and a Foyles book shop, yummy.
Then one stop to Farringdon and a two minute walk to my new life.
I love working in the office. There are two women who are solid and serious. Two actors/writers ex-army veterans with arms like Jambon hams and hearts just as big. A boy, so tall, I have to stand on a step ladder to look into his navel, and a quiet boy who answers the phone with authority. Being near creative people, makes me hop with excitement, although it could be Franks beans.
My muse and I looked through loads of my old catalogue. I have got 40 years of professional work, when somebody said I was woven into the fabric of society I had to believe it. I have been around even longer than the Oxo Mum.
Then I wrote a script for something we are filming next week. Fingers crossed we can get the studio where we did GFL, that would be magical.
Then the call from the daughter.
‘MUUM’ she screamed. ‘My computer has broken, I got smacked in the mouth in the kebab shop and I have two things to write by Monday.’
‘Did you get salad on your kebab?’ I asked.
‘Yes’ she said.
‘Thank God.’ I said. ‘All those carbs without greens is not good for you.’
‘MUUUM’ she screamed.
I closed down my work, kissed all the men, including the quiet one, kissed the girls and left for Oxford Street.
Walked down a side street and found a computer mender who gave me a free apple – and thats a Golden Delicious not an Imac – then met B outside the Regents Street Store.
What a pile of hype goes on in there. Iphone 4 this, Ipad bollox 4 that. We walked upstairs and made a very quick relationship with an ex Brazilian footballer, fifth child to a family from Santa Caterina. He’s now studying computer science and wearing the clothes his wife buys for Harrods. He sold us the new version of B’s broken down machine, gave us his card and my daughter the confidence to begin again.
The relieved daughter and I had that coffee in Franks, kissed each other goodbye and off she went.
Took the No.19 bus, sat on the top deck, watched the traffic build up at Hyde Park Corner, drooled at the shop windows on Sloane Street, got bored with the same fashions on The Kings Road, and alighted on Battersea Bridge. I walked back from the bus stop in double quick time, walked into the flat, peeled off my clothes, put on my brown plaid jim-jam bottoms, brown plaid knitted socks, a green hoodie and turned on the computer.
I have absolute faith in my muse, absolute faith in you lot to get behind this new project which we will announce when we can, and absolute confidence that I will finish my third chapter in time for Christmas.
‘Get that book done’ says the old git, ‘And you can have a dog’
He’s got an interview on Monday for a rather lovely project with a rather prestigious theatre company. If he gets it B’s computer will be recouped in three weeks, if he doesn’t it won’t be.
God I am so positive it’s sickening.
It must be my muse or maybe it’s Frank’s coffee,