The GF has gone for a very lengthy interview – talk about bad timing. I dreamt last night that he was wearing a silk navy blue suit covered in watercolour flowers but didn’t want to suggest he wear something else. While others in the house have gone to the so-called Chapel of Rest. I stay here, because I don’t have a house key and didn’t want to ask, because I might be wanted (or not, who knows) when they return. I made myself a little pasta of tomatoes, caperberries and fresh goats cheese, tried on my funeral clothes to make sure they were in order (I had them hurriedly stitched in Lahore) and am now going to rummage through my stored belongings to see what might be thrown away.
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