Was he missing gigging? Apparently not. He says he had felt like a circus freak with his band, exhibiting his odd life history and Greg’s deformity and demise to a mocking, leering, spiteful audience; casting pearls to swine. I assured him that this was not how he perceived events at the time, and that it is his present state that is colouring his memory. I offered my opinion that future retrospections, I am sure, will allow Nat to view those times with correct perspective and fond recall. He was duly touched.

SUN SEP 4

Nat stays in much more than I would like. His visits to me make up the bulk of his outings, and even his monthly signing-on trips to the Labour Exchange have been terminated. The D.H.S.S.—or S.S. as Nat calls them—gave him a harrowing interview, with regard to his extracurricular musical activities. “Kafka’s not the only one” I said, glad I had got to use this line at last. He could not answer their accusations, and when they asked for proof of his attendance at job interviews, he had none.

They said he had been going on like this for aeons and where would it end? Would they eventually have to wheel in his file on a trolley?

“So what?” I said, and Nat cheered up. They can only stop his money if he deliberately misleads them about record royalties or fails to attend their appointments. However, he is loath to engage with them at all, ergo he has been forfeiting his entitlements. He would rather eke out an existence on the music money than go begging to “those people”.

I tried to reason with him, explaining that the system was not intended to cope with such large numbers and how that places an unbearable strain on D.H.S.S. staff, but he would have none of it. He has told them that he does not require their charity any longer. In a fit of pique the Unemployment Resettlement Officer directed him to class himself as permanently unemployable, which has done nothing for his self-image. The money from the record, whilst doubtless a fair share of the humble profits, is hardly enough to live on. However, Nat has returned once more to his ascetic existence and is happy if he merely has sufficient cash to pay his parents his keep each week.

It is strange, but I have never really known him free from suicidal tendencies or out of mourning. The most difficult part of his grieving is over. Nat has achieved a truly disinterested way of life. His family almost ignores him; even his mother no longer expects much of him. The pattern of family life has adapted to Nat’s protracted behaviour. Any ruffling of the atrophic structure has to be quickly subdued.