Chapter 77

           Itwassixo’clockbeforeIgottosleep,andeventhenIwokeupseveraltimes.Atlast,ateleven,Idecidedtofacetheday.Iwenttothebedroomdoor.Jojohadgone.Ilookedinthekitchenthatwasalsoabathroom.There,scrawledonthemirrorwithabitofsoapwerethreeX’s,aGoodbye,andhername.Ascasuallyasshehadslippedintomylife,shehadslippedoutofit.Onthekitchentablelaymycarpump.Thesewingmachineshummeddimlyupfromthefloorbelow;women’svoices,thesoundofstalemusicfromaradio.Iwasthesolitarymanupstairs.Waiting.Alwayswaiting.Ileantagainsttheoldwoodendraining-boarddrinkingNescaféandeatingdampbiscuits.Asusual,Ihadforgottentobuyanybread.Istaredatthesideofanemptycerealpacket.Onitanauseatinglyhappy"average"familywereshownroundabreakfasttable;breezytannedfather,attractivegirlishmother,smallboy,smallgirl;dreamland.MetaphoricallyIspat.Yettheremustbesomerealitybehinditall,somecravingfororder,harmony,beyondalltheshabbycowardiceofwantingtobelikeeveryoneelse,theseffishneedtohaveone’slaundrylookedafter,buttonssewnon,rutsserved,namepropagated,mealsdecentlycooked.Imadeanothercupofcoffee.CursedAlison,thebloodybitch.WhyshouldIwaitforher?WhyofallplacesinLondon,acitywithmoreeagergirlsperacrethananyotherinEurope,prettiergirls,drovesofrestlessgirlswhocametoLondontobestolen,stripped,towakeuponemorninginastranger’sbed.ThenJojo.

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