I had moved to Brooklyn to join a commune of New York firefighters and I had taken the house I lived in in 1989 with me.
While I was standing nude in the bathroom I realised that Jack Nicholson was watching me through the mirror. Later he sent round his business card with a handwritten note and his email address, begging me to contact him. Not knowing what to do, I shouted downstairs to the men “Hey, you guys. Should I have sex with Jack Nicholson or not?”.
I was in Paris for an academic conference. Just a couple of stops along the Metro were my sister-in-law JLR and my niece F, now aged 16. I missed sessions, dressed in a white hotel towel and plastic high heels to be with my relations and dish out advice on acne.
It was a pity that my knowledge of the Paris streets had diminished over the years and it took me so long to get from one part of the city to another.
BC and GC’s house was bigger than I imagined from the photos. I was keen to confirm that I had come to the right place and looked around for green leather furniture.
When I returned home I realised that I had left behind my soap bag (in the bathroom) and my jacket (over the back of a chair downstairs). I hoped that the C family would bring my belongings with them when they came to visit.
In preparation for their arrival I asked my sister S to find her collection of Matchbox cars and toy garage. I knew that N would love to play with them, and that Z would join in. I didn’t appreciate, however, that Z had another half-sister and she would also be visiting. Would she join in?
I overheard TPR tell a conference delegate that he was God, and claim that this was why he was qualified to speak about social media use in higher education (even though he knew nothing about the subject). He also explained that his main priority was to look after just one mortal, and that was me.
While TPR delivered his speech I judged the ‘new product’ competition. I was a very lazy judge, drawing my conclusions on the value of each entry simply on a written description rather than a demo.
Afterwards we went down to the River Thames and watched a medals ceremony for a group of visiting dignitaries.
I had two new careers – and I was equally out of depth in both.
As the Queen’s midwife, I was uncomfortable with the sight of blood although delighted with how trim I looked in the uniform.
Later, despite my complete lack of experience, I was the owner of an exotic, tent-based, luxury beauty resort. In one of the white tents, David Beckham waited patiently for me to wax his bikini line. Horrified, I realised my lack of skills and knowledge was likely to be exposed to over a million of his Instagram followers.
Belle and I were having huge problems dealing with TIX. Although we were terribly impressed by her recent weight loss, we were distressed to discover that she had also lost her mind.
When she jumped out of the car in Leith and disappeared into the dark along the street we thought that she was gone forever. How on earth could we confess our carelessness to T’s husband? We would have to hunt her down.
I dumped the car in a disused entrance of an abandoned park, then set off to recover our demented friend. I eventually found her sitting in a chair in a neat hotel bedroom. She did not recognise me. However, she explained that she was very happy here and preferred to be left to her own devices from now on.
NP hosted the most fabulous parties in her enormous kitchen (about the size of our hall). Amongst her guests was my Granny H, brought back from the dead specially to entertain me.
Afterwards (as we drank the complimentary orange juice at the gym café) I struggled to find the words to thank NP enough for this kindness.
I couldn’t stay on for the formal dinner so I left TMX in the hands of IKX.
This arrangement was not to T’s liking. She disapproved of the ostentatious wealth of I’s new house, especially that evident in the home gym. She was also extremely uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping in a bedroom that displayed on its wall a poster entitled ‘Best Murders’.
When I rang to check how she was, T picked up the call in the Mermaid. She had swapped the claustrophobic atmosphere of the formal dinner (where she was well-known) for the anonymity of the pub. Here she had a chance to secure new friendships with people who knew nothing of her tragic past.
We were encouraged to work with external partners so I was pleased to have struck up a relationship with Mike. When he said that he had an urgent contract for me I grabbed my handbag, pulled on my coat, and headed to the station.
It was lucky that my passport was in my bag because our destination the next day was Paris. This evening, however, we would stay in Mike’s exclusive London club. This was a large grey building situated in a yard behind a high stone wall. The reception was staffed by two ancient wrinkled crones dressed in multi-coloured bathrobes and turbans. The main reception room was crammed full of torn and dusty furniture, with most of the seats already taken. I found somewhere to sit in a corner and waited while Mike brought me a drink.
I looked around at the other club members. Some were forcing themselves on young girls who were clearly underage. I took a sip of the green cocktail that Mike handed to me and suggested that we go outside. I planned to tell him that I did not like this place and wanted to leave.
We stood at the wall and I made my announcement. Mike’s face fell. Then I realised that he had invited me here not for work, but because he was in love with me. He confessed as much, adding that he had spiked my cocktail so that he could be certain of taking me home to bed with him that evening. This horrified me.
‘Haven’t you seen a photo of my husband?’ I screamed. ‘Why ever do you think that I would be interested in anyone as puny as you?’ Then I ran away as fast as I could. Mike’s lack of fitness meant that he couldn’t keep up with me.
TPR and I were reunited under a bridge beside the River Thames. I was so pleased to see him, although not very happy to hear that he had just added the names of two new women to his list of conquests.
I walked all the way up the hill to the new building of the highest point of campus, then made my way up to the top floor. From there I took position at the window with everyone else to watch the teams compete in the sea races. The ambulance crew was doing particularly well, out-performing the teams from the armed forces.
Afterwards I pushed a tiny blonde student in a green and white striped dress on a swing. We chatted politely and she told me of the difficulties of studying for a degree that combined English and maths. My mother-in-law was concerned that my interactions with this girl could be construed as inappropriate. I assured her that such a conversation was perfectly normal.
Dreamaticus 