‘Chandrima has a book coming out?’ I said, genuinely delighted for her. ‘I had no idea. Nor that she was there that weekend.’

‘Well, you know Chandrima. She’s a quiet one. Her book’s coming out in the spring, I think. Anyway,’ she said, ‘you’ve not told me what it is about these retrospectives that upsets you so much.’

‘I think it’s all that looking backwards,’ I answered, after a few moments’ reflection. ‘I’m not sure it actually achieves anything.’

Liz looked at me curiously.

‘That doesn’t sound like a very Brian thing to say,’ she said.

‘You’re probably right. But maybe I’ve changed,’ I mused. ‘Maybe I’ve got a bit better at being me. Or perhaps nostalgia just isn’t as much fun as it used to be.’

Afterwards, I walked Liz to her bus stop. Her bus was already approaching as we got there and I could see her nervousness as she turned around to face me.

‘Fancy . . . coming back for a nightcap?’ she asked, hesitantly.

It was an interesting question, not least because it caused me to ponder on the etymology of the word ‘nightcap’ and whether it was coined after the garment of the same name, given that, like alcohol, it had the ability to provide warmth and comfort through the night-time hours, although recent research suggests that alcohol may actually have a detrimental effect upon one’s quality of sleep, this being dependent, of course, like so many other health-related things, on the quantity of alcohol consumed. In other words, there is much truth to be wrung out of the phrase ‘all things in moderation’ . . .

I don’t think Liz could have heard the last bit properly, though, as by that time she had already boarded the bus and was sitting upstairs, staring out bleakly into the cold, winter night, as it pulled away.

So distracted was her gaze that, at first, she didn’t notice the man who was busy breaking the human land-speed record by outrunning the bus between its stops, nor hear the wheezes from his chest as he climbed up the staircase to sit down beside her.

Monday December 31st

What Goes Around, Comes Around

The world is spinning on its axis;

it never lessens or relaxes.

Through space and time, the planet hurtles

and every day it turns full circle.

It takes one whole year to round the sun.

Yet the revolution’s just begun.

And there a simple truth is found:

what goes around, comes around.

Don’t ask me why. Don’t ask me how.

You’d be dizzy if you got off now.

It was only when I got back that I remembered I’d yet to play my Christmas present from Dylan. I took the record out of the bag and inspected it closely. Gil Scott-Heron looked understandably fed up at having to wait so long.