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AUGUST
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AUGUST Tuesday 3 I wasn't bathed or dressed before eleven as the drip fell off the wall while I was asleep, HB discovered it on the floor. I then did the rounds: Bar Italia to Bertaux's, ham rolls, cheese. Michelle gave me a choux pastry from an enormous conical sugar cake they had made for Madame's daughter's second wedding. Madame told Michelle she had to wear a hat. Michelle read out part of a wedding list from Liberty, which included such improbable items as Medusa plates and fiendishly expensive coffee cups. HB off to the gym. Fay Godwin left a snap of the garden at Bertaux's. I got a new pair of spectacles and read the paper for myself for the first time in weeks - it's still difficult as thefizzyholes make it hard to concentrate. Wednesday 4 Meeting with Nigel Finch from Arena, then Howard and I drove to Dungeness, we were held up interminably by a jack-knifed lorry that blocked the road. A cold day with a roaring gale that shut me into the back room, where I listened to Gavin Bryars's interminable Sinking of the Titanic. Braved the elements and did a little gardening. I was very happy to return to London. Thursday 5 The community nurse came to drip me as HB has gone to Newcastle. Sunday 8 The nurse produced a very sweet rag doll made by one of her patients - an eighty-year-old. It reminded me of mum and her busy Singer producing dresses from the Vogue pattern book, white shirts and cravats, and bright Chinese brocade waistcoats. At eighteen I looked like a respectable greatuncle , M6cS pullover, trousers - probably without turn-ups - shoes from Dolcis, which had one of those X-ray machines that delighted us as kids, all of us quite unaware of any danger. After all, the fifties were the atomic age. 370 AUGUST Friday 13 To my utter surprise I bumped into Nico as I went through the outpatients. He came up to the clinic with me - he had been having a broken arm put in order. It's always a delight to spend time with him. We talked of his neighbour Max Gordon, the architect, who has died, and his brother Adrian who lived in a gilded flat in Duke Street, and died of AIDS - another flood of memories. Nico said he didn't feel sad, Adrian had enjoyed a great life. We talked of my fortunes and his fortunes, and my painting that Nico is giving to the Tate in memory of Adrian. I had a very complete rundown with Dr Peter and then Nico gave me a lift to the door of Phoenix House. I must see more of him, he cheers me up. Saturday 14 I sat here working with Gingerbits on the colour book. Did we finish it? At six Karl and Pia came, very enthusiastic about the show in Potsdam, and Nicky, who recommended I take Dexedrine - I'm so drugged up I doubt I'd even notice it. I fell asleep fully clothed and with the lights on. When I woke at five I took my trousers off and switched out the lights. Sunday 15 I got an American breakfast at Ed's - HBtold methey had them onSunday. It was very good: hash browns, eggs and crispy bacon. I had to bolt it to get back for the nurse. Then an orange juice with Michelle, who was up to her eyes in VATand her Albanian waiters - the very good-looking one waving a carving knife at her. Michelle described herself as his mother. They've all decided they like the charming Serbian girl who works in the mornings. Bertaux's is much more than a tea shop - it's a continuous entertainment. I can hardly see anything, books and newspapers are a thing of the past, no more browsing in the second-hand bookshops on Sunday afternoons, I can just about read the headlines. Monday 16 Michelle asked: 'What were the foods you had as a child?' Junket, I've not seen that again; roast lamb, for my New Zealand father; canary sponge pudding; my mother would have a fad - walnut bread. I don't remember food playing more than a straightforward role, there were no treats except the Christmas turkey or goose and my father churning brandy butter, which we ate with the smallest portion of Christmas pudding. The district nurse all of a...