The First Week «

The First Week

Saturday 28th March 2020

The first week – or is it the second? Mental confusion is the state one longs for most, these days. On Monday, Laura Malcolm suggested a meeting in Hyde Park. At the Norweyan War Memorial, which I’d never heard of. So I proceeded by bicycle, as did she. Glaring Spring day, much blossom, a little whippy wind. Nobody there. Laura said it was enchanting, London so quiet. We sat at a social distance and I ate a banana ( a bit worried about fingering it before eating with un-sanitised hand – but had I touched anything on the way?). Confused. I had to eat the banana because I’d panic-bought a bunch the Saturday before and they were starting to go off. That’s another problem – getting all the food eaten. Nothing must be wasted, as in WW2. An enthusiastic young man stopped by and offered to take a photo of us plus sanitising with his own sanitiser Laura’s phone before handing it back. What a service! Laura and I agreed that the Norweyan War Memorial was a bit of a disappointment – just a lump of rock, inscription illegible. Not nasty though. I laid my banana skin on the ground, knowing that Royston would be cross with pollution in his park – which he was, later on the telephone. ‘Others will think it’s all right for them to leave worse litter.’ I forgot to explain that a crow made off with my banana skin almost immediately. That counts as an event now. A park bench had ‘David Tang’ inscribed on it. I thought I knew that name – from the time before. Some sort of massive mogul Earl’s Court Gay? Well, I just Wiki-ed and it seems not. Married with children. But a giver of incredible events? Like Sir Elton…

We saw two magpies.

Laura said, ‘It’s lucky we like our houses.’ So true. Poor Little Rich Gays – all those hours screaming down the phone to C.P.Hart re: the wrong bath taps will have their reward. I’m also thinking: lucky so many of us went to boarding school. We know what it is to be confined – and deprived. Although on Monday, and on Tuesday I wasn’t confined, but out, out, on my bicycle. I bought some stewing beef for Aunt Lavinia who mustn’t go out at all due to age to hand over to Laura, who lives near her. But I left it behind, so had to get some more and bike all the way to her residence in Fulham. On the way back, I ran into (at a social distance) Churchill and Churchill, one of whom is intimate with the Ducal Grandson. As twins at birth naturally they were given the same name. Churchill and Churchill were not maintaining a social distance and had a luxury dog with them. ‘Chelsea’s deserted,’ they said, with disbelief.