The roaring Tens?

Monday 9 December 2013

At 07:01 all the windows of the upper storey of the school are brightly lit. The BE is in darkness. Mrs Trimot’s car is reversing off the driveway; Mr Trimot’s car has already gone. Mrs Trimot departs in the direction of Cypress Crescent.
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Bad fences, good neighbours

Sunday 8 December 2013

Not long after 06:30, at 4 Cypress Crescent the exterior light is on, as it was yesterday morning, and the small window at the right-hand side of the upper storey (the bathroom window?) is lit. The ruinous bathroom window is also lit.
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Not making a song and dance of it

Saturday 7 December 2013

Mr Port’s van has remained by the left-hand side of the Old Man’s front lawn overnight. I notice that it again bears the usual company logo — or perhaps it is a different van from the one he’s been driving recently.
It is a dull, damp morning. Dark-grey cloud-cover is interspersed with lighter cloud. There is no blue sky, and no sunshine.
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Clouds and contrails

Friday 6 December 2013

At 05:14 the blue light of the Ports’ new burglar alarm is on.
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Ululating “Eilidh”?

Thursday 5 December 2013

Owing to some traffic holdups, it is about 16:15 when I arrive at the Old Man’s house. There are no longer any roadworks on George Street.
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Removing a skip

Saturday 16 November 2013

Just before 08:00, a flatbed lorry is positioned with its tail close to the Goldsteins’ garage, which is at the bottom of the Goldsteins’ back garden. When I next look, the lorry has picked up a yellow skip covered with a big green tarpaulin. Presumably the skip is related to the renovation work chez Goldstein.
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Mrs FW and friend

Friday 15 November 2013

At 07:55 Mrs Wheeler’s car has parked alongside the school-house garden, between a black Ultra uphill of it and a black Zero further downhill.
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Mrs Tanbrit… and Miss Purposeful?

Thursday 14 November 2013

At 05:50 the only lights visible from my bedroom are the “light beyond” and the ruinous bathroom window.
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Scarlett and black van

Wednesday 13 November 2013

On George Street I encounter temporary traffic-lights just beyond Despard Street. As I approach the junction with Victoria Street, I see another set of traffic-lights further along George Street.
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The eleventh…

Mr Xerxes, my grandfather, fought on the Western Front in the First World War. In the late 1950s and the 1960s he would occasionally remind us all that the Armistice had taken effect on “the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month.” I imagine he had been saying this for many years.
Where he was at the time of the Armistice, and what he had been doing in the time that led up to the Armistice, I don’t know. He rarely talked about the War itself.

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