May 12, 2002
To Cassandra
From FLW S3
06.32
No subject
Sister, here it is, the diary. It’s best you don’t know how I have it. I am
sending you the entries that seem important. Please be careful. I am having
an awful time here but if this helps nail those mofos I may get my old job
back. My new boss Jeremy is Navaho and more understanding than those white
suits. I think he’s gay so I don’t mind hanging out with him. Last thing I
want to do is to get involved with any of these dickheads.

Take care girl.


From 2001 entries

20th May
He kissed me when we woke, late, and I fell into it easy. He was good, but
I’ll spare you the details. I’ll tell you in bed some time. He looked OK
before he went out this morning. I even thought he might deal with them. But
he had no idea. The guys were late and like before they’d been at the
bottle. Dutch courage. He left with a hug and a wave, poor sod. Almost on
queue the sea got up rotten. I just watched TV, “The Bold and the
Beautiful”, and waited two hours before calling the coastguard.

The sea tells all and all is in the water
Should the fish tell the truth
We would all be in the slammer


21st May
The local police asked about three things then left. Then GeneTech sent
flowers and a nice little black card. I walked on the beach but I’m not one
for getting sand in my toes. Mam you always told me I’d be town girl
forever.


Derry Saturday

The morning we started stoned at eleven
And went to the shops for me mammie
Back for butties and tea at three
Life isn’t poor, tarmac and concrete

The evening we started stoned at six
And went to the lines for our exercise
Whip up a frenzy and throw some bricks
Run from the Brits, tarmac and concrete

This is crap.


28th May
I’ve hung around long enough. What to do? His parents arrive tomorrow for
the funeral and my school play acting skills are wearing thin. That Deepesh
gets on my nerves; he was here all day yesterday and tried to convince me to
let him stay in the spare room. Cheek of it! Claims that you were all such
great buddies. Finally I got him to go to a motel. Emil this and Emil that;
you’d think he’d known you since school-WHOEVER YOU ARE! And where are you
now my love? I need you and I don’t understand but I do understand and l’m
too fucked up in my head to get this straight. I’m going in the morning. I
can’t do the funeral I really can’t.


31st May
Bill is my saviour. Like before he made cocoa when I arrived and ran me a
hot bath. He has a nice little hideaway here and I could almost stay
forever. I told him it had to be friends only. He’s OK with that. Tomorrow
I’ll cut me hair again. I fancy the sharp designer look like I had when I
was at the Slade. Flamingo Punk Pink? Maybe that’ll stand out too much?
Never mind, I’m away again and I feel all cosy.



From 2002 entries

12th January
The little shite with the beard crept round here today and offered me a
deal. They don’t know, I can tell. How the fuck do they expect to get
anywhere with their Mr. Plod tactics? I swear they’re worse than the
Rozzers. I wish I could talk to you. So they want me to hide. Ironic that
they’re sending me back to the smoke. All my mis-spent youth went down the
crapper there. From Derry to Kilburn, and then having to leave after ’93.
Great memories eh? We’re just not supposed to have any. It’s all right for
you my love, out there, in the blue.

 

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