Stuart didn’t return home on the day of the Zumbathon. Nor the next. Sophie sent a series of increasingly frantic and angry messages but heard nothing back, receiving no news of him at all until the police called her to say that they’d intercepted him at Heathrow, attempting to board a flight to Spain. He was wearing one of his motivational T-shirts; it was the one with the phrase ‘SOME PEOPLE ARE SO POOR, ALL THEY HAVE IS MONEY!’

I tried very hard to keep my face looking concerned and sympathetic as she told me all this. When she got to the part about never wanting to see Stuart again, I suppressed my laughter with a fit of coughing – and then as she told me that all thoughts of moving were over, I sat on my right hand to stop it from punching the air.

I offered Sophie more tea but she said she had to be getting on. There were a lot of things still to sort out. Out of respect for the gravity of the situation, Dylan and I waited for Sophie to drive off before we began a prolonged bout of whooping and fist-bumping.

I ordered in pizza and we turned the TV on, just in time to catch the end of It’s a Wonderful Life.

Sunday December 23rd

We See Gigs

We see gigs of ambient ska,

Acid jazz and indie guitar.

Blues and Britpop, soul and hip hop

Following yonder stars.

O stars of reggae, stars of punk,

Stars of Belgian neurofunk,

Sublime evenings, sometimes leaving,

Trying not to get too drunk.

Avant-garde industrial rock,

Honky Tonk and bubblegum pop.

Cuban mambo, duelling banjos,

Seventeenth-century baroque.

O stars of country, stars of trance

Stars of new age folk from France,

Find some new kicks, dump the Netflix,

Enter into life’s great dance.

In December, we have to take a flexible approach to 27th Club. There are not many gigs to be found on the usual date so we just have to take whatever we can find.

Darren questioned whether a carol service actually counts as a gig but I pointed out to him that it bore all the hallmarks. There was a flamboyant frontman (the vicar), a rowdy crowd (the congregation), alcohol (mulled wine) and a band (choir) who played (sang) all their greatest hits (including ‘Silent Night’, ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’, and ‘We Three Kings’) as well as some of more obscure songs (‘A Virgin Unspotted’ and ‘Whence Is That Lovely Fragrance Wafting?’) to keep things real for the true aficionados. Like all annoying gig-goers, we sang along in the choruses.

Darren enjoyed it so much that when it was over, he got a book from the merch stand on the back pew. He says he may come back again next Sunday.

Monday December 24th

Tense Christmas

I The Ghost of Christmas Past Perfect Progressive

Midnight. Awoken by a ghost.

I thought I must be raving.