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Beau Temp/Changeant/Pluvieux

Today I went to see him; the housing officer was irritating straight off the bat. 'Could you take a box up to him for me?' She asked, momentarily breaking off her chat with some bloke. I said 'Yes,' so she kept me waiting a nice little while while she continued moaning at him about her life and how she tries to keep the place going. He gestured to a mattress at the side of the door and asked about it.

'I don't know how it got there,' she said, 'It was there this morning...'

Oh, do you not? I wanted to interject. Well I do. It'll have been moved from my friend's place by a couple of the usual suspects/social services, because he couldn't get into the bedroom or access the new bed from the hospital, because you hadn't arranged for the old one to be taken away. But I don't know if she could make his life complicated, so I didn't say anything. Eventually she tore herself away from her riveting conversation and gave me the box.

My friend's flat is small but clean. It has no fridge. I went and got him some stuff, then made some tea.He talked to me about how they used to bring folk cups of tea on the beach at Cleethorpes when he was a kid, and they always made it with UHT milk. We spent most of the afternoon together, and it was great, though he kept throwing up copious amounts of dark green bile. He thinks he is reacting to the morphine, and indeed, he did occasionally fade out for a few seconds, then be back and lucid. I washed the bowl, brought it back, he used it again. He kept apologising, and I kept telling him it was nothing. It was nothing, truth to tell, no worse than anything you might find at a post party bogfest. There was just an awful lot of it, and nothing solid, but I don't know whether that is significant.

One of our friends had contacted him, talking about meeting up in the middle of town this friday - apparently I am meant to be there! I don't recall anything about it. He said he intends to, but even by taxi, I don't think he can do it. I think if we are to meet, it must be his place, but far be it from me to dash his hopes, he so wants to get out and about. Told him about the lovely weekend, Greenwich Observatory and the Wallace Collection...he knew all about the former, and was very interested in visiting the latter. I took this photo of a glorious old barometer while there.



Beau Temps, stay around a while. Pluvieux, give him a chance of summer. Not too much to ask, is it?

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