But.
A walk up Catbells in the rain with Sharon lifted my spirits, and finding a pink phone, which belonged to the wife of Mr Lovely, by the side of the path gave the outing a touch of absurdity. The weather improved after we came down off the mountain and the walk became a quest for Mr Lovely. When we finally handed over the phone at the end of the walk Mr Lovely seemed merely pleasant. What's in a name?
That was all last weekend, now misery, fear and despair have returned bringing with them chest pains and a ringing in the ears. If only I could sleep and wake refreshed, but the season of the rose is passed and no rainbows gleam on the salt-sand wave. Poor Persephone, no one has noticed she's not around any more.