SC visits for one night. She’s over here to sell her place in Barnes, where I was her tenant for fourteen years. She’s committed to the States now, she thinks, looking after an ageing mother in Pennsylvania, teaching at Juillard, & may not be back again. We talk about age & death. As she’s getting into the rental Volkswagen to drive to Richmond next morning, I think for a brief moment how the wind round the house–any house, but this one in particular, with its complicated roofs–sounds just a little too much like the wind in a 1960s Japanese movie. This year seemed to start out full of promise; now it’s just one lesson after another, all of them about the same thing.