Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
some notes to make on gigs I had coming up and I had to check the responses from candid-
ate authors for the school. Whereas normally I'd wait until everybody was in bed for a bit of
peace, I could now go to my office and get some work done while it was still fresh in my
mind. I had a spring in my step as I made my way across the garden. I really felt that things
were moving in the right direction; I could see a time when I would be home more, I had
my own space for writing, everything felt good. Suddenly everything, like the
fosse
, felt un-
blocked.
I climbed the stairs to my office, two at a time such was my rush to get there, and as I
arrived at the top I nearly fell over Samuel and Maurice who were in the middle of a noisy
game of Subbuteo on the floor having also rummaged messily through my DVDs looking for
something to watch; Vespa was asleep on my swivel chair and Pierrot was doing something
unspeakable with my prized vintage dresser. Natalie was making some window seat cover-
ings for the classroom below, happily humming to herself. Without looking up or even appar-
ently breaking the beat in her tune she asked idly, 'What do you think of goats?'
I sat heavily on one of the barstools and untwisted the cap off a small bottle of beer. I took
a long swig and surveyed the scene.
'Plus ça change...'
I thought,
'plus ça change.'
Well, at least my French was improving.