I did not care for the house, I thought it too small, inside and out; no, no it was not a place which I wanted to move to.
Neither did I care for the fact that my partner had cooked up a deal with her father to buy the house, then to let her rent it at a reduced rate, with an option, eventually, to buy it.
So when the family moved in I did not; instead I took my own place, a cold cold one bedroom winter-let, out across the river, on the Bere Peninsula.
The foreword could end there, if I could trust you to understand the failings of the human psyche, which leads on to failed relationships.
But I will go on, not that I don’t trust you, not that I wouldn’t care to read your suggested interpretations.
I will go on, so that you have a few more facts from my perspective to play with, a few more sides for you to take, a few more gaps for you to wander through.
The lawyer in London asked me to drink champagne as I was writing my record, in support of his clients arbitration proceedings.
I didn’t drink champagne, but I did get paid extremely well for a couple of weeks writing, followed by two appearances in London, as an expert witness.
Four years earlier, in 1992, I had returned from the Channel Isles of Jersey, to find a home, to earn a living, to provide for my new family.
We had rented houses, each for two years, prior to the one above which I did not move in to; they were larger houses, which I had chosen; my working seven days a week paid the rent.
I also didn’t move to the new house because I thought that my partner had been unfaithful.
My old boss from 1989 had offered her his hand in marriage; she did turn him down, but didn’t tell of what had led up to such a circumstance arising.
Fast forward a couple of years, I am in a rather warmer winter let, having spent two summers, and another cold winter, in a terraced row of student doctors out in the country.
I rang my ex, for as we were now living apart I think it not right still to call her my partner; I rang to see if she fancied going for a meal.
Are you asking me out on a date, she said excitedly; if you are then the answer is yes.
Well one thing led to another, and there I was, living in the house, which I hadn’t wanted to live in, which wasn’t big enough, inside, or out.
Several years of home improvements followed; new floors, new ceilings, new roofs, new walls, new windows, new bathroom, new conservatory, new fitted bedrooms, new kitchen, new study, new garden path, new arbour, new rill.
In the Christmas of 2002 my partner, bought me a Kodak digital camera, another thoughtful present to encourage me to develop my creativity.
Little did I know at the time that the camera was to be my witness of the year 2004, which is what this book of poetry is to be about.
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