I’m back at work (which, incidentally, means I will blog more regularly - thanks for hanging on in there) and my fish is alive. The huge tub of instant coffee has about 200 cups worth left. The litter bins are full to overflowing. Fluorescent lights. Bitterness. I can feel a Dolly Parton song coming on…
New Years day went without a hitch. Will and I walked to the fancy dress shop in Angel to get masks for the Puscha Masquerade Ball. The mask shop is called Party Pleasures
and is full of tacky gifts that would be suitable only as props for a Carry On film. I choose a little Zorro number and Will settles on a Butterfly. On the way to the station we take a detour to visit the flat that Joe Orton lived in for seven years prior to his death. I also discover the Kings Cross Canal. Orton’s flat is on the top of a typical row of British flats. There’s a blue National Heritage sign which is too high to read and when two teenagers walk past us they give us a look like we’re casing the joint.
After running into town to pick up a shirt for the club (bright blue with gold stripes) we only have an hour before people start arriving. As our place is walking distance from Puscha it has been nominated as the pre-party drinks venue. Kate and Tom turn up early and we pop a bottle of bubbly. Soon, to my surprise, Errol turns up. He used to go out with my Sam (boy) but now dates Sheila (girl) and has been a little distant over the past few months so I’m pleased to see him. I talk with Sheila and like her immediately. She has dark curly hair and is so quick, I sit up.
After two bottles of fizz the rest of the rabble turns up. Some of them haven’t seen the new place yet so I give them a quick tour before throwing them out. It’s bloody cold and I get stuck holding Lucy who’s already been celebrating quite hard. We walk along to King’s Cross and follow the spotlights towards the club.