How quickly and how lovely it is that I can find or fall into – whatever you might call it – my life here. the girls have a new house – going round for dinner one night, tea with Sian. A sleek black cat blinks at me from a set of steps, morning fog over the park.
Up north there are the faces of my parents at their front door, the arms of my girlfriends, the thin shoulders of my grandpa. I feed him soup from a spoon and we have the Saturday afternoon football on the television roaring in the background. His skin is as brown as ever and I lay my wrist alongside his so we can look at the colour.