Burgling Lorraine and I off to visit Dawn this morning in Lorraine's old street. Dawn is about to embark on a PhD about the meaning of life in postwar Britain, and to help finance this she is making space for a lodger, and so was giving Lorraine a table. As we managed the table's thick glass top down the stairs into a camper van Dawn had borrowed, and the door slammed locking us all out. Cue several essays at burglary, and involving various neighbours including JD, the French rock journalist who I have met several times, who tore himself away from being filmed in his house by a documentary TV crew, to spend half an hour attempting in a borderline obsessive way to force the lock with credit cards. Eventually Lorraine borrowed a long ladder from the people who had bought her old house, and the sparrowy Dawn shinned up this and disappeared into a firstfloor window. Once safely back at Lorraine's house with the table, Lorraine forced me to help her assemble a flatpack kitchen i...
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