And I was heading home after two hectic days of looking after Kit's shop and pretending to be the fount of all musical knowledge. The previous Saturday I had run the market stall in a hurricane of icy rain so it was luxury to sit in a cold shop sheltered from the wind. The rest of the country was being battered by storms and I'd hoped to weave my way south around crashes, fallen trees, ambulences and police cars. But the adventure never happened: I just drove south through heavy rain listening to Christmas carols on tne car radio. How evocative the old carols are. Christianity, like the Devil, has all the best tunes.
I arrived in Liverpool to an empty house. Liz and Kit were off roistering. I ate part of the meal that Liz had prepared for later - a misunderstanding - and sat down to watch a bad film with a can of beer.
By the time Liz, then Kit, returned I was falling asleep. I vaugely remember being tormented by Kit and forced out of bed to go downstairs to watch him perform a heart transplant. Despite bits of the patient's insides being carelessly cast aside the operation seemed to be a success. Finally I could stand it no more and returned to bed, leaving the wretch to his game.
I arrived in Liverpool to an empty house. Liz and Kit were off roistering. I ate part of the meal that Liz had prepared for later - a misunderstanding - and sat down to watch a bad film with a can of beer.
By the time Liz, then Kit, returned I was falling asleep. I vaugely remember being tormented by Kit and forced out of bed to go downstairs to watch him perform a heart transplant. Despite bits of the patient's insides being carelessly cast aside the operation seemed to be a success. Finally I could stand it no more and returned to bed, leaving the wretch to his game.