Life Journal

London 28/08/1990 Tuesday

London 28/08/1990 Tuesday

London 28/08/1990 Tuesday

Not sure where to start. My mum and I moved on the 18th to a flat nearby, on Balfour Road. Gustavo is still around but planning on leaving on Sunday. Everything is sort of the same but different…

Since we moved I only slept one night at the new place. I’m with Patrick all the time. But the most important thing happened this weekend. For some weeks I’ve known how in love I’m with him, feeling all that happiness and fear all at once. On Saturday he was coming to the shop when I finished, around 6, but no sign of him, I wanted until 7 and went home, upset. He could at least have called. When I got home I realised I’d go mad if I stayed there on my own, my mum was away. It was raining and I went to Seven Sisters. I was soaking wet when I got there. I went to all three Brazilian squats (10th, 11th and 14th floor) and no one was in. Patrick’s room light was on and there was music playing but I refused to go there. So he wasn’t dead and he just didn’t turn up! I was going to Karl’s and when I got in the lift a man with a bleeding face walks in. I got in the lift with him but he kicked me out, screaming at me to get out. An Indian woman outside told me he’d been bottled in a fight. Karl wasn’t home. I sat on the steps for a while and then went back to the squats block. Went to the 14th floor and Wagner had just arrived. They had all been to the pub and came back early so I went to the 11th floor and we all played cards and smoked. Later on I felt worried and stressed out. So I went to the 10th floor with the excuse to go to Denise and Robinson’s squat and then Felipe came with me to Patrick’s. We could hear “She’s leaving home” coming out of his bedroom. I went there. He was flat out on the bed. Drunk. I was stoned. He smiled and looked all innocent. I asked him what was his reason for not turning up, did he have an excuse? He said he didn’t really. So I just got up and left and he started shouting for me to stay. I went to the living room and he started playing “She’s leaving home” again. I thought that was really funny and went back to his room five minutes later. He said he stayed home alone, drinking and that it was nice. I found that upsetting so I left for good and slept on Felipe’s sofa.

Woke up the next day and was on my way to Denise’s squat when the lift door opened, it was Patrick and George. I said ‘Good Morning’ and carried on going to Denise’s and knocked on her door, while Patrick followed me. George stayed behind holding the lift… Denise opened the door looking very sleepy, so I didn’t want to disturb her, and didn’t go in, and turned around to get in the lift. Patrick asked me to go to the pub with him and I said no thanks. He asked where I was going and I said not to worry, which should come naturally to him as he didn’t worry about me the night before. I went back to Wagner’s and played cards with Gustavo while some people watched the F1 race – Senna won.

We were all going to Covent Garden, after much faffing about, and on the way out I knocked on Patrick’s door and told everyone to wait for me downstairs. Patrick didn’t want to go and called the lift so I could go and I said I didn’t want to go out anymore. We sat down on a bench opposite the lift. He said he didn’t go because he fell asleep and it was late when he woke up. He decided to wait for me and bought food and drink, and he drank, I didn’t turn up and he kept drinking. He said he’s at a very dangerous stage, he likes me a lot but he’s scared, and women just bring trouble, and he doesn’t want to suffer and he really didn’t want to get involved… I said I felt really scared too. While we were saying all this we kept on being interrupted… Twice by Frank and once by some guy stealing a fuse for his squat.

There was a very intense atmosphere between us, so we bought some hash off Frank and took some photos of the 10th floor (there was a fire there 2 weeks ago, I wasn’t around that night, but Patrick ended up having to rescue someone off a balcony, by lifting her to the 11th floor!). The hash was SHITE, it stank of rubber. So we sat there and Patrick asked if I was prepared to hear something and I said yes, thinking he was going to end it…

I LOVE YOU he said. I couldn’t believe it! I’ve been waiting for him to say it so I could say it too, but nothing came out. I was speechless and holding back the tears. He said while he was at the pub with George all he could think of was me and that now he was sure of something he’d been fearing for a while. Finally I said it too and I felt really light. We then made love for 2 hours, 2 whole hours non-stop, we couldn’t believe it afterwards when we looked at the time!!!

George came back from the cinema at 10 and we were drinking. We went to sleep at midnight and tried to make love again as we still wanted each other, but we were both exhausted.

On Monday it was a bank holiday and we woke up at 8, made love, had a bath and cleaned his flat. George, Sean and another Irish guy helped, it took us 1.5 hours.

Patrick and I then went to the carnival in Notting Hill. My camera fell on the floor when someone tried to knock it off my hand and I lost half the film. It was so busy. Every 20 meters there was a sound system playing House/Acid music. I never saw so many people in my life!

On Friday night Patrick and I went to the West End, to watch Betty Blue, which we didn’t in the end and some street artist made a portrait of me. At first I hated it but then it started to look a bit enigmatic and it grew on me. Patrick stuck it to the side of his bed. I found myself staring at it a couple of times, somewhat enchanted by it. Have to go now, this time we are watching Betty Blue for sure.

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