The house on Bathurst Street
Couldn’t sleep last night (probably caused by the thought of going back to work after almost a week off). Ended up going through my handphone’s address book to see who I could disturb at that hour. There was someone over in London, so I sms’d her.
| Me: Krudy! |
To my surprise, the reply was almost immediate. Which was a real surprise, since this is someone who never replies sms’s and then blames it on her answering machine.
| Her: Yer wha ?! |
Back went my response.
| Me: Where’s pic of u on bike? |
Another immediate response from her.
| Her: Who goes there |
Looked like she didn’t seem to know who was sending her the messages.
| Me: It’s Chet! |
Next thing I know, my handphone was vibrating. Someone was calling. Unfamiliar number. But had to be her. In the excitement, pressed the wrong button and cancelled the call. (duh, Chet … ) She called again. We eventually connected.
It was 7:30 p.m. where she was, and 3:30 a.m. where I was.
During the course of the call, she told me she lost her handphone recently and didn’t have my number anymore. That’s why she didn’t know who’d messaged her. Then she said she kind of figured out who it was, cuz “only one person would say ‘Hey, Krudy!’.” I corrected her that I’d only sms’d “Krudy!”
We had a nice chat, and ended up reminiscing about that summer in 1988 when we shared a house on Bathurst Street in Norwich. I told her I thought we spent the whole summer there, but that when I checked my diary for that year, was surprised to find it was only for a week or two.
She asked if I remembered the fight we had. I said we had lots of fights. She said it was the one where I’d walked off down the road and she yelled after me, “f**k off!” Not really.
I asked if she remembered the night she came back from London on her scooter and was struggling to open the front door when I opened it and found her there. She didn’t.
But we both remembered the album collection in that house in Bathurst Street, especially the Janis Ian ones.
And then she asked if I remembered the book we found in the house. The Joy of Sex.
“God, it was so dated,” she said.
Er … yes.
We said lots of other things early this morning. It was really nice of her to call.
Thanks, Krudy.
