Month: March 2021

Day 18

Tuesday March 9, 2021

Mark:

We’re chilling at home when Sarah calls me. ‘I’m going out for a bit so if you want I can give you the keys to the apartment. But I’m leaving pretty much now. So, if you’re up for it, say 20 minutes at Tufnell Park station?’ I don’t even bother to check with Maja. I just say yes we’ll be there. I go to the kitchen to find Maja having a good chat with Cris. Apologising for interrupting, I say, ‘Maja, we have to leave right now.’ I explain what’s happening but my words clearly come out too fast because once we’re out of the house she says, ‘Where are we going?’ Oh dear. Sorry. OK. I tell her properly this time and get a much more excited response to the fact that we’re now getting keys to the apartment and are going to babysit Sarah’s two cats. Moving day will still be maybe Thursday, to be confirmed, but to be about to get the keys makes it so real because, frankly, the thought of getting this place for free has seemed a bit too good to be true, but now it’s actually happening. We get to Tufnell Park tube just two minutes before Sarah who gives us a huge greeting before handing over the keys. Then she’s gone into the night and we head off to the apartment.

We’re hanging out just chilling there a few hours later when Sarah calls. ‘Guys,’ she says, ‘I’ve decided I’m staying out tonight. Do you mind staying there and I’ll see you in the morning?’ Maja hears this, we nod to each other, then I confirm that yes, that will be alright. I hang up and then me and Maja have a moment. Oh, we think simultaneously. This is it. We’ve moved in now. Just like that, it has happened.

With that, thoughts turn to how we’re going to have dinner here, and the fact that we have to get a little something extra to mark the ocassion. We decide to order in from a local Greek restaurant which I’ll pick up while taking a detour to one of the finest wine shops in London which is right around the corner. When I leave, I can’t help but to take a celebratory sprint to the end of the street. Me and Maja are in sight of having our actual own place in almost central London. A three bedroom apartment in view of the city. And there’s no rent or deposit to pay. All we’re being asked to do is cover the bills. We’re literally on the verge of being given a free apartment, but even before it becomes our whole own apartment, we have a room. Again, for free. This is also us moving in together, and into what will be a totally musical place, just two and a half weeks after we first met at Heathrow airport.

Maja:

I can’t believe we’ve just managed to do another impossible thing. It is impossible to live rent free in London. It’s just impossible. And it seems beyond wonderful to live in this musical collective. Cheers Mark. To us and to our bright future.

Day 19

Wednesday March 10, 2021

Mark:

When Sara arrives at the house this morning she’s absolutely delighted to see us there. We all live together now and we get to talking about musical plans. Sarah really wants the two of us to join her as essentially her backing band and she has big plans for us to really go to town on rehearsals now we’re all in the same space 24/7. There’s talk of reshaping the main living room area into a studio/workspace, but that will come later once we’ve got the apartment into a bit more order. To this she says, ‘Guys, this is your place. I’m not going to be staying here much longer so whatever you want to do, just do it. Treat it as your own home because it is.’ While we will be working together, hopefully a lot, Sarah’s fast moving on with her plans to be moving on and out of London. And with that, she gives us an even bigger surprise than she gave us last night when we discovered we’d accidentally moved in. She wants us to have her room. ‘It makes sense,’ she says. ‘I won’t be living here much and you guys will, and eventually the whole place will fully become yours anyway, so we might as well get that started now.’ Anyway, she reasons, we’re two people and she’s just one so it makes sense that we have the big double room and she moves herself into the single room. No, we were not expecting this at all. I’ve long known the single room was for storage of things for her friends and was not to be touched. There is another large room in the house at the front looking out over the street and we assumed that was where we would be calling our own. But no. The whole place is to get an overhaul and we’re to play a big part in that. And all while staying in the big double bedroom which actually has a view of parts of central London. Very much a partial view, obscured as it is by the local rooftops, but our very own central London view nonetheless.

To make this all happen, there is a hell of a lot to do so we do the only thing there is to be done. We get started. This new place is a 15 to 20 minute walk from the house we’re leaving. So, while Maja cleans and organises, I get busy with making shuttle walks between the two places carrying all our stuff. This is, indeed, moving day.

Maja:

Under the bed are a couple of drawers in which mens clothes are stashed. I carefully place them in a box for the cupboard as I ask Sarah, ‘Who do these belong to?’ She explains that they belong to some TV celebrity that apparently everyone knows the name of, but I, a Swede, have never heard of. I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing not knowing, but the bed I sleep in is the very same bed a famous person has regularly slept in. And I now know where his ties are. If you happen to be the celebrity in question and you’re reading this and want them back, I put them in the cupboard above the plates close to the ceiling. I’m sure you know where that is.

Mark:

Once we’ve got to what we can call a conclusion for the day, we settle in at the window and pour ourselves a massively earned Orange GnT. We have to do that in our room because from being really the party animal, even in our rehearsals, Sarah has very recently decided she doesn’t drink anymore so would like to not have the temptation, but she’s been emphatic that we shouldn’t let that stop us, as long as we keep it to our room please. No problem at all. And well, with a view like that as well to share between just the two of us, that’s actually just fine. More and more this is all getting too good to be true.

Maja gives actual action to that thought as she tells me she’s going to continue paying rent on the room in the house we’ve just left. ‘Incase things burn here.’ Why should they burn, I think. I respect the decision and don’t say anything, but really, why should they? This is a beautiful situation with the beautiful soul of Sarah and us two. What could possibly go wrong? But yeah sure. Nothing wrong with having a little back-up plan.

Maja:

As we finally lie down, we’re in a celebratory mood. We live here now. Sarah has settled down in her room and now this is the first night for all three of us to be here. Mark quickly falls asleep next to me and I remain awake for a while, reflecting upon the weirdness of all the things that have been happening lately. My former life and my future life. I’m getting sleepier and sleepier. I’m close to really dropping off when I notice a strange sound. It’s coming from down the hall. From Sarah’s room. I quietly sneak out of bed and peek into her room. Next to her is an enormous speaker, but it is way too far away for me to dare to go in and turn it off or down. So I sneak back into bed and try to accustom myself to the new sounds I’m going to have to listen to tonight. ‘Aaauuuumm, aaauuuummm, ching, aauuuum’. Some kind of meditative chanting. I hate these kinds of sounds. I find them terribly unnerving. As the tracks continue on I realise that I’m stuck in an infinite playlist of Youtube hell. 

Mark:

We won’t find out what this all is until morning, but what’s happened is that Sara’s fallen asleep listening to something soothing on Youtube. Whatever that was has finished and now the continuation playlist has been activated. Either the video she was listening to was very quiet, or the next one was very loud. In any case, what’s happening now is that the whole apartment is filled with eerie, extremely unnerving Gregorian chanting. It feels like we are inside and living the soundtrack to a horror movie. We’re totally encased in it and sleep is impossible. It goes on and on and we have no idea what to do. We don’t want to intrude on Sarah’s room and turn it off or down. Instead, we comfort each other and endure in varying levels of desperation and exasperation. This goes on until about 8am when it suddenly gets turned off with Sarah waking to do so. We still don’t intrude. Instead, relief and benign gratitude washing over us, we go to sleep. But it’s somewhat of a qualified relief because we’re left thinking if this kind of thing is normal around here and something we’re going to have to live with. I feel our first little chat approaching. We have to know what the hell all that was about.

When we’re all up and about and I bring it up with Sarah, she says, ‘Oh, if that ever happens just go in and turn it off. I just fall asleep and never know what’s going to come up next.’ Oh. That was easy. A horrible, horrible and very unsettling night, especially given it was the first one, but really, we can leave it there.

Day 20

Thursday March 11, 2021

Mark:

New Bass Day for Maja and she’s totally thrilled with it. A Washburn, the exact same model as mine, but a different colour and just a few ever so slightly different specs, but essentially the same bass. And it plays wonderfully. It’s ridiculous to think two new, high end basses were sent back to the shop in disgrace, while this second hand number has turned up, costing about a quarter of the price of either of them, and is just out of the box brilliant.

As Maja’s joyfully contemplating and trying out her new acquisition, for some reason I decide to look at the serial number of my bass, something I’ve never done before. I am stunned beyond to discover that the first five numbers of it are 92102. Maja’s birthday: 1992, October 2nd. Even Sarah, with all her tuned in spirituality and encouraging words that the two of us are meant to be, is struck into total silence by this revelation. 

After all this, me and Maja have a few drinks then, at 1am, we decide to go out to the local town of Archway and continue out there. We fill a backpack with selected bottles and cups and take off. It’s in some state of enthusiastic exuberance that we bounce along the road, coming across a shop protected with a purple shutter and adorned with stylish graffiti. Maja is wearing a purple raincoat. It is far too good an opportunity to pass down. The resulting photographs are every bit as spectacular as we hoped they would be.

We continue right to the end of the high street. There, opposite the tube, we find a late night kebab takeaway place. Across the road from that is a very attractive and socially laid out group of benches. Just perfect for a party of two. 

Day 21

Friday March 12, 2021

Mark:

Another trip to Camden Market. This really is becoming a thing and that’s the main item on the agenda today, alongside the continuing huge job of cleanup and organisation of the room and apartment with Sarah enthusiastically joining in. She really is going for it now, saying that she expects us to be there for anything up to five years as she keeps going on her travels. She says once again that she’s only ever considered this a temporary base anyway and had long been looking for someone who could come and take the place over, but no-one she knew quite fit what she was looking for. Then Maja came along, the two of us needed a place, and Sarah saw a perfect fit in all directions. And now here we are. I told Maja things happened in London, but within less than three weeks of arriving here, she’s landed a relationship, what looks like being the beginnings of a full time band with one of the most connected people in town – I’m talking about Sarah here – and a free apartment. By any standards, this is just ridiculous. 

As for all the other stuff, this time I really have solved it by not thinking about it. I’m kinda walking around in a daze of denial and delusion that somehow, magically, the obstacles in front of us will just fall away. After all, we’ve just landed a free apartment. Surely the rest of the stuff will take care of itself as well. Yep. OK Mark. You just keep telling yourself that. But really, I think I’ve boiled it down to, you’re OK today and that’s about it. It comes down to that. One day at a time, so today is just today.

On a little wander out to the shop today I bump into Rafael, who lives above my bar. He says he saw us make all our trips the other day and says I should have asked him to help, as he has a big work van. I knew this, I just didn’t want to ask. ‘You idiot,’ he says. ‘Ask next time, please.’ I don’t know whether to thank him or apologise. He seems almost hurt. I promise I’ll ask if there ever is a next time. Of course there won’t be, but why hurt his feelings further?

Day 22

Saturday March 13, 2021

Mark:

Our first 13th of the month. Do bad things happen on days of 13? I don’t even believe that Friday stuff, but I can’t help but have a little muse first thing this morning.

If anything, today is a bit of a lucky day. It’s the first day we feel really in any way settled in our new place. All the moving has been done and a bit part of what we think is the first really big part of organisation and cleaning. Sarah’s never really seen this as a permanent place for her, so it’s fair to say maintenance hasn’t quite been top of the agenda so we’ve had it at the top of ours. But today, for the first time, we feel like we have something of our own space. Our idea is to just take that absolute relief at having landed somewhere and do very little. Maybe a little bass and music practice, but very much as and when the time and mood takes us. If we’re to be totally honest with ourselves and you, we fully intend to spend today doing absolutely nothing but chilling and thinking nice things.

With those thoughts and our very newly discovered domestic wonderfulness, we settle down for a simple lunch of soup and bread using the desk just outside the kitchen and next to the bathroom as we haven’t quite got round to fixing proper dining arrangements in here yet. But it all still feels fantastic. It’s a beautiful practically central London day and the vibe is untouchable. What could possibly go wrong?

There’s a little sudden furry flurry of excitement as Sarah comes running through to retrieve Ron, her younger cat who has just run into the bathroom. When that happens, it can only mean one thing. Ron has gone under the bathtub. It’s a frustrating process for Sarah to have to get him out and once she does, she says that the cat is possibly just feeling a little unsettled at having new people in the place. She often seeks refuge under the bathtub, Sarah explains, but she’s apparently been doing it a little more than usual lately. 

So Sarah says that it would be good if we could be extra vigilant for now and leave the bathroom door closed at all times. At least just for now until Ron settles down and hopefully starts to feel a little more comfortable with us. No problem. With that, Sarah goes back into the bathroom, emerges a few minutes later, and then leaves, without closing the door. Well, why should she automatically think that? It’s a brand new thing, right? I kinda notice the door’s been left open but I don’t really think too much of it. I’ll close it. Yes I will. In a minute. In a minute, I’ll get up and close it. No, really, I will. About two minutes later, Ron comes running back towards us and goes, yep, you’ve guessed it, into the bathroom.

Balls. I knew I should have shut that door already. I really don’t want Sarah to know the door’s already been left open long enough for the cat to get back in there. And kinda on our (my) watch. Alright, it wasn’t me who left it open, but I’ve been here with an open door all this time. All two minutes of it, at least a minute of which the door should have been shut. I know Sarah wouldn’t be too mad at this having happened so soon after it became a brand new thing. She might make a little thing of it like, ‘Guys, what did we all just agree?’ and fair enough. But I’d rather avoid even that, just deal with this quietly and quickly, and then make sure we don’t forget again. 

So I go into the bathroom, and there Ron is, faithfully under the bathtub, just two red eyes hovering and staring at me with benign malevolence in the darkness. Yes, she has red eyes. The eyes of the other one are yellow. That’s how you tell these two almost identical white cats apart. I reach in with my hand trying not to scare her, but still trying to make her uncomfortable enough to run out. With my own cat Toffee, who I’ve now sadly left behind with Jenn at the old house, the faintest of movement inside a hiding place is enough to have her scurrying out in fright. Ron is clearly made of sterner stuff and knows she’s perfectly safe in there thankyou very much. I reach further and further in, but she just isn’t having it. She’s now gone deep and I’m almost lying on my belly trying to reach in. There’s a bunch of semi damp rags under here and, as I reach for Ron with my left and arm, reaching round a bathtub support to do so, I inadvertently move the rags away with my elbow. I’ll worry about that later. I should be worried about that now. Very worried. 

Seeing something I haven’t, and very much realising something quite significant has happened that I have no clue of, Ron suddenly makes a dart for it. Great. She’s decided to come out. She disappears behind the support I was just reaching around and that’s it. She doesn’t emerge from behind the support. She just disappears. Down, it seemed like. Did I see that? Did she just suddenly lurch downwards? Surely not. It happened so quickly it doesn’t seem possible. Still not massively overly concerned, I peer in, up to and around the support pole. There’s no cat. She’s simply ceased to be. Just like that. Oh no no no no no. In a split second I realise what’s just happened and how and why. Those rags. They were stuffed into a hole in the floor. That cat, well, she’s gone through it. And is now, very most likely, on her way into the depths of this building. It’s one or two hundred years old and has been knocked all different kinds of ways into different apartments over a substantial amount of years. The walls and floors in between are nothing but impenetrable labyrinths, unseen by human eyes in generations. And I’ve just seen Sarah’s cat, no, I’ve just helped send Sarah’s cat, jump into that black void from which escape or retrieval may well be impossible. Did I mention today was the 13th? Oh balls.

There’s nothing for it now but to tell Sarah as soon as possible what’s happened. When I tell her, the look of shock and panic on her face is total. I don’t know it yet, but this has long been one of her worst fears and now it’s happened. Not yet having really taken it in and not yet fully ready to be rational either, she refuses to believe I didn’t do anything intentionally. I of course had no idea the rags hid a hole but, at this immediately early stage, she’s somewhat hysterical and convinced I pulled them out myself, exposing the hole and allowing the cat to go through it. She does the hand thing and says she can’t talk to me now but I’m not leaving it like this and insist that she believes my truth. Once she’s had a frantic look under the bath for herself, she sees how this actually happened. At the same time I’m also telling her I’m sorry but I didn’t want her to know the door had been left open just two minutes after a very specific conversation about keeping it closed at all times. This is all happening so quickly and is so bewildering. Less than five minutes ago all was bliss and fluff. And now we’re in this total chaos and rage panic. With that in mind I don’t add that it was Sarah herself who really left the door open almost the instant she’d insisted on keeping it closed. Somehow I really don’t think that would help matters right now. Having composed herself a little, but still very clearly shaken, Sarah tells us that this happened to another cat in here five or six years ago. She says that he was gone for two weeks and came back black. ‘That’s hundreds of years of tunnels and who knows what down there,’ she says. Yeah. The reality of that is starting to hit both myself and Maja. ‘Guys,’ she says sadly, pleadingly. ‘Please, you can’t be here right now. I think it’s more likely Ron will come back if it’s just me here. Can you just go to your room.’ Still totally stunned by this wrecking ball that’s crashed into our world, we comply without thought or hesitation. But as soon as we’re there, we look at each other with a realisation which I give voice to. ‘We’ve just been sent to our room.’ Maja nods sadly. ‘This is really not good,’ I continue. ‘That cat could actually die. It might already be dead.’ I’m thinking of so many scenarios right now, some of which I mention, others I don’t. She might never be able to find her way out and could starve to death in there with no-one even knowing. Essentially an indoor cat, she could possibly find her way outside. If she does that, she’ll have little to no idea of how to behave in this car filled central London area. If she survives that gauntlet, I don’t see how she finds her way back to the apartment. Even if she does somehow find her way back, it’s not like she’s going to buzz the downstairs intercom. She has no idea what number apartment she lives in. No. Sarah’s baby, the so-called light of her life, is gone. Disappeared, dead, or at serious risk of death, or with little chance of finding her way back if she somehow doesn’t get/ hasn’t already been killed. I might as well say it now. It will be me that will have killed/ lost her. Happy Saturday 13th.

Where the hell do we go from this? My first thought is that we’re going to be needing Maja’s insurance policy already. After just four days. How can we carry on living here if the cat doesn’t come back? I don’t see how it could be possible. But even if she does come back, that might not be until tomorrow. Or two days, three days, a week, more. How tense will the atmosphere be like in here all that time? No. I just don’t see it.

It’s with all those thoughts swirling round my head that Sarah comes knocking, enters the room and says, ‘Guys, I don’t want you drinking in here anymore. I just don’t.’ Then she leaves. That does it for me. It might seem trivial, but if she’d said at the outset no drinking in the place at all, fine. We could have taken or left it, and we would have taken it. But to let us in and impose a rule like that now, after one incident, I’m really not happy about that. Apart from anything else, what house rule is she going to spring on us next? And after that? My immediate thought is that I suddenly don’t want to live here anymore and I say so. Let’s just move back to the house, however horrible that might be. At least it would be our horrible. Maja says we shouldn’t make any decisions like that in the heat of this moment and she’s totally right. Above everything, we just have to get out to clear our minds for a bit and make sense of all this. Sarah couldn’t agree more that we shouldn’t be here right now. But before we leave, she makes a point of telling us that she’s spoken to a good friend and neighbour about this and has come to realise that it wasn’t my fault at all, that she should have told us about the hole being there, and she totally accepts I exposed it completely accidentally. She also apologises for coming slamming down on the non drinking rule, saying, ‘I’m sorry, I was just lashing out and looking for things to blame, but this is your place and of course you can do what you want.’ Lovely to hear and an equilibrium of sorts has returned. But none of that changes the fact that Ron is still gone and probably not coming back. We wish her luck and leave.

Out on the street, Maja says, ‘Wow. Our first crisis.’ Yes, no other way to put it. It very much is. We walk slowly to Hampstead Heath, all the while trying to take it in but we just can’t. I just say over and over again, ‘I’ve killed her cat.’ I don’t see any way back from this. We talk about the prospect of moving back to the house, which would mean moving back in to live with Jenn which Maja is not keen on at all. The two of them did not speak a word to each other all the time Maja was there and she does not want to return to that atmosphere. Option two is staying where we are and dealing with whatever fall-out that entails. Not a good secondary option at all. We really, truly, do not know what to do about this. The one thing we’re lucky about, Ha! Lucky?, is that the weather is nice. This is Corona, lockdown London. Once you leave the house, you’re outside and that’s it. If it was raining or cold, there would be nowhere to go and have a sit-down in. No cafe, bar or library. Nothing. We probably would have ended up riding the bus or tube just to get out of the weather, but thankfully we don’t have to think about that. Instead, we have the wonderful Hampstead Heath to roam about on. I’ve never enjoyed being here less. But there’s no escape. No matter where we go, nothing can change the situation or the crisis clouds that have now gathered all around us.

We walk around like this for four hours, never quite leaving our dazed, bewildered, slightly scared state. It’s around the four hour mark that Maja says, ‘I think it’s time to go home.’ Home? I suppose it is, but for how long? With foreboding, we make our way back, each step taking us closer to whatever the hell we’re going to find upon opening the door. We arrive at the street and I pull Maja back for a few pep talk words. ‘We’re about to walk into the fire,’ I say. ‘We go in there together, and face whatever we come up against together.’ She nods with defiance. We’re going to front up to this and we’re going to do it now. We pause for a few seconds to individually steel ourselves and then turn and deliberately walk towards a world of doubt, confusion and possible retribution. Chaos, grief, anger? We have no idea what we’ll be met with. But we’re about to put ourselves right in the middle of it all and accept whatever comes our way and whatever that could mean. Our minds are blank. We have no idea of any of this so can’t even see a way to the immediate future, that future being just seconds away and behind one single door. We enter the apartment block and walk up the stairs, heads held high but stomachs brought to a ridiculous low. This is climbing over the top of the trenches territory. We’re in no-man’s land now and any moment the machine guns are going to open up. Will we make it through? At the front door I turn the key and look at Maja. ‘This is it. Let’s go.’

We enter the apartment and it explodes.

‘Guys, guys, did you get my message?’ We didn’t but this is not at all what we expected. Sarah’s happy, jubilant even, that we’re back. She runs out of the main room and calls to us from the end of the corridor. ‘She came back. She came back.’ She’s almost crying with relief as she says the words. ‘Half an hour ago. I sent you a message to tell you. Oh I love you guys. You must have really been through it.’ Oh, we have. Her relief shoots through us like a wave of lasers and we run to her to be enveloped in the hugest of group hugs. Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow. It’s over, it’s over.’ From what we can gather, and no-one can be really certain anyway, Ron never went very far into the hole and so the nightmare scenario of her becoming irretrievably lost in the labyrinth of Victorian architecture never happened. And when she was ready, she just jumped back out again and into the arms of a disbelieving, hysterically jubilant Sarah who is now full of joy and how wonderful she thinks the two of us are all over again. In short, it’s like the whole episode of horribleness ever happened. But me and Maja look at each other and we know. We’ve been seriously tested today. We’ve stared at the fire, held hands and walked, together, right into it. And here we are on the other side. All happy again and harmony in the apartment once more restored. Oh, and while we were out, Sarah and a friend did the underside of the bath and plugged the hole up properly with tiles. So, no more hole, and no more mystery damp rags under the bath hiding a mystery in the hope no-one would one day push them aside while a cat was under there.

Day 24

Monday March 15, 2021

Mark:

Sarah doesn’t have a fridge. She’s vegan and doesn’t use conventional milk so doesn’t really have things around that can go off. Cooking, for her, is mostly a big pan of vegetables and beans and things that just sits there on the stove for whenever she wants it. She’s shared it with us, and told us to help ourselves to it whenever we want, and it really is very good. In fact, this is kind of how the whole experience here is developing. Food is just there for anyone to help themselves to whenever they want. Actually, just about anything is. It really is developing into a kind of communal living right down to the three of us all now feeling comfortable enough to walk round the place naked at times. This very much is not the conventional house sharing situation. Even down to just pretty much wandering into each others’ bedrooms for casual chats. Privacy is very much respected, but if we’re in the ordinary run of the day, whatever passes for ordinary around here, it’s totally fine to wander into any room at any time with or without clothes on.

Fridge. Oh yes. I was talking about the fridge, or non existence of one. Well, me and Maja have decided we would very much like the existence of one. In London, many people, if they can help it, don’t throw anything away. All kinds of items either get put out on the street for people to come and help themselves, even sometimes with electrical items having helpful labels like, ‘This works,’ stuck to them. When we were arranging our room here, there was a big black, kinda broken couch in it that didn’t quite fit the room or anywhere else in the apartment so we put it out on the street. The next day it was gone. A ridiculous amount of furniture and kitchenware in our old house came from the street. Apart from street donating and scavenging, there are also websites where people will post stuff for sale, or also often for free if you can pick it up. I’ve registered with one of these to see what we can get, and yes, I did do it with the hope of seeing a free fridge. That crazy idea stops being crazy today when we do indeed see a free fridge on offer. We make the call and it’s still available and we can pick it up tomorrow.

Day 25

Tuesday March 16, 2021

Mark:

The lady who has the fridge is called Marcella and she lives in Holloway, two to three kilometres away from us. We’ve talked about hiring a car for the job, but I have another ridiculous idea which is that we can take the trolley I’ve used to carry amps all over London in what now feels like another life, and put a fridge on it and wheel it all the way back home. Will this work? I have no idea. We’ve decided to get there, see if the trolley thing works, and if it doesn’t, see what we can to sort out some kind of hired transport from there. We’ve figured that even if we pay up to 50 quid or more for a hire car, or man with a van or whatever, it will still be a lot cheaper than buying a new fridge, which is what we’re basically getting here for free. 

We get to Marcella’s house and she’s delighted to see us, to see that the fridge is going to some people who need and will really appreciate it. We’re also helping her out because she had no idea how to dispose of a fridge. Why it’s being disposed of we don’t quite get to the bottom of, but that’s none of our business. Marcella is lovely and wants to give this thing to us, well, somebody but that somebody has turned out to be us, and we are gratefully receiving. But this is not a little thing. It’s a full on fridge freezer, one of those things that’s taller than the average person. Incredibly, we discover the trolley can take it. Which means that now we’re about to set off and wheel a person sized fridge through a few London neighbourhoods and down Holloway High Street, all the way back home. This means going very slowly with me pushing the thing, totally blind to where I’m going while Maja walks in front, gently guiding me left and right as obstacles appear. The most notable of these is a full sheltered bus stop full of people right in the middle of a London high street that we slowly, and quite literally, have to negotiate our way through. Oh, for a photograph of that. Then, when we do finally make it all the way home, we have to carry it up two flights of stairs. Oh, that is fun. Then, once in the apartment – what a lovely triumphant moment that is – it’s back on the trolley with it for the final leg of wheeling it into the main room to place it lovingly in the corner where it quietly and joyously hums away. Sarah can’t believe it when she comes home and marvels at our resourcefulness, effort and determination at even being able to find such a thing in the first place, and then the sheer force and energy required to get it all the way here. The next day, in something of a celebration, I write a set of lyrics commemorating the event, called Marcella’s Fridge. I really hope we can do something with it one day.

And this really is what we do now. Live life and write about it. In here and in our songs. Or, at least in our lyrics which we fully intend to turn into songs when we finally get the time and space to sit down and really look at full on songwriting. We keep thinking we’re going to get to that, but then something else happens that demands our attention. Songwriting. It really is the thing that happens when you have nothing else to do. For whatever reason that is. Yes, I know, there is the avoidance issue that even some of the most successful have. Sting says he avoids it like the plague and even Paul Simon says it’s never fun. For us, at least as far as lyrics are concerned, we write write write all the time. We’ve taken the David Bowie approach of just writing everything down. All of us, we’re surrounded and blessed by genius. We just don’t write it down enough. Think about it. You don’t sit down at your kitchen table and think, ‘I’m going to think of something devastatingly funny now.’ No. It just happens when you’re with your friends. The same goes for genius observations, and just comments in general. And of course it’s not just what you say, but what your friends say and also what you overhear in the world around you. All. The. Time. But it all gets lost to the ether. Well, we’re going round and trying to gather some of that ether up. Or at least catch it before it becomes so. For this, we have pens scattered all around the apartment and we take notebooks everywhere we go. A conversation on a bus, a daytrip, and chance encounter, an image of London. It all goes in. And what doesn’t I know will stay with us to emerge at some later time. This has led to some bizarre situations. Meeting friends in the street while one of us is walking along head deep in a notebook writing. And in supermarkets while one of us has continued shopping while the other stands deep in thought in the middle of an aisle. Clean up in aisle five? For us it’s write up in aisle six. Just a few sheets of paper and our writing sticks. It’s all we need. Never in my life have I seen notebooks fill up with lyrics as fast as ours have been in the past three weeks or so.

But here’s the other thing. As a songwriter past, I have written plenty of lyrics as pieces on their own, with a thought to using them later but very very few of those pieces see the light of day as actual songs. By this I don’t mean that I don’t try. I do, it’s just that while I usually think it will be an easy, almost lazy thing to do to just put some chord together and sing what I’ve written over them, I almost always end up writing whole new lyrics to what I’m coming up with melodically and rhythmically. But it’s still great of course to have all these lyrics as a resource, and just great that we’re writing full stop. Even the concepts of them, and individual lines, of which I’m certain there are many great ones. Which is another thing. Apart from whole sets of lyrics in those books, we also have individual lines from things we’ve said or heard, and sometimes simply just concepts. As for what we’ll end up doing with them, who knows what Maja’s approach to actual songwriting will be when we get there? And I’m sure I can have a go at some of these, or maybe at least be able to incorporate what we have. But even then, I do write a song and come up with a whole new set of lyrics, well, the well will have been left untouched and its levels will remain constant. Absolutely no harm there.

Maja:

We’re finally off for a little outing. Since it’s deep into covid times, London is in lockdown and meeting people is not really that common. You can’t really go into a bar or anything, so we decide to meet up in Camden and have a couple of beers by the riverside. It’s fun to get to meet Matt, he is a very lively person with a ton of positive energy bottled up in his chest. As we stand in the winter cold, cheeks bitten by the wind, I get to hear a ton of lovely stories. About a city that was once alive. A town that was bursting with musicians, tourists, and the people that used to make out the, until recently, music capital of the world. The city I missed. And my heart hurts knowing it will never be the same again, so I will never get to experience it. The before Brexit and before Covid London. 

But I am happy to hear the stories from the people who were there. By the musicians that made up the tourist attractions that people would travel to see. To hear about playing at the Blues Kitchen, Ain’t Nothin’ But… and of course the 100 hour jam. Who gets to hear that? 

That’s what I think while I let these talkative guys go on and on. Sipping my drink. Enjoying the atmosphere. Of the empty canal next to Camden Market. Where it’s never empty.

Day 26

Wednesday March 17, 2021

Maja:

I’m woken up by Sarah entering our room in some state of lovely excitement, bringing me a present. When she woke up that morning, she was a bit chilly, so she got dressed in a jumper. That jumper is an official Gorillaz jumper from their tour a couple of years ago, which lead singer Damon Albarn personally gave out to only musicians and crew. The character on the jumper is Murdoc, the Gorillaz bassist. I’m beyond happy about it. What a way to wake up. 

Gorillaz is the band I’ve been listening to the most this last year, so it’s very fitting. And of course, Murdoc. The bassist. Of course, I play the bass, and Mark is my bass mentor, so what could be more fitting?

Mark:

After a wonderful morning, we’re hit again by reality in the evening as we sit down to really go through visa possibilities for Maja so that she can stay in London. All it pulls up is despair, despair, and despair. The two options we seem to have are by marriage, or something called the global talent plan. We spend three hours forensically going through both, and whenever we feel we can overcome one obstacle in the scores of requirements, we come to another which cannot possibly be met. The whole thing is just looking totally impossible. In fact, we conclude that both routes are deliberately written to set people up to fail. One piece of information in particular that keeps coming up is the need for a sponsor, with no clue at all as to what would constitute as a sponsor, no matter how much we research it.

The marriage road looks like this. 

Maja has a six month visa as it stands right now. She has been here just about a month.

We discover you have to formally announce an intention to marry, and then can’t get married for at least 70 days after that. If we do this tomorrow, that would take us more than three months into the six. But you also have to have a venue booked so even in this hypothetical scenario, that will probably not happen tomorrow. Especially not when you throw Corona regulations into the mix.

Once married, you can apply. 

The application process takes up to two months to receive a reply. That’s five months right there. Oh, and before any of this can even begin, Maja first needs to get a divorce which also has to go through the courts which will take at least another month. If it begins today, which it won’t. So there’s your six months. Minimum. And it’s not even a given that a visa would be granted on those grounds even if we managed to jump through all the hoops and tick all the boxes within the available time.

In a moment of clarity, we decide to solve the Visa problem by deciding we’re not going to depend on it. We’re going to do this by simply not living in the UK. With that we start to look at countries where it’s easier for Europeans to go and live. This leads us to seriously consider a few countries in Asia, South America, to be left for us to look at more closely another day.  

As we’re discuss this and I’m considering an option or two, Maja suddenly stops me cold. ‘Oh, I have an idea,’ she says breathlessly, wild excitement in her eyes. Oh wow. This sounds like it could be something. I exit my train of thought instantly. We’re in a desperate state here and her entire expectant face tells me she’s just about to unleash the magic thunderball that will blast the whole thing wide open. I take a mental step back to allow full space for whatever she is about to say to wash and crash right into. She hits me with it. ‘Will you go traveling in a camper van with me.’ Wow. I didn’t see that coming. But I don’t hesitate. ‘Yes.’ ‘Wow,’ she giggles. ‘That’s a bigger commitment than agreeing to get married.’ Yeah. I guess it really is.

Maja:

I’ve been thinking about camper vans for a long time. As a way to travel around and still keeping my life with me. So why not now? Mark can be in Europe for 180 days a year and I can be in UK for 180 days as well. So we can travel and live that way together. We just can’t work that way, but that is a different problem. Maybe we can solve that in some other way. Only this way, we can stay together. I hope. That’s really everything that matters to me right now.

Mark:

Instantly this has become our fallback option and we’ve now decided not to let the visa thing stress us out at all. If it happens it happens. And even if some circumstances arise which miraculously facilitate a visa solution, we might just follow through with all this anyway. Because, as we talk more and more about it, the whole thing starts to make more and more sense. Almost seamlessly the conversation coalesces into an actual plan for what we really want to do now and what we are now going to do – write songs, tour internationally with them, and write about it.

So far since we met we’ve spoken about kids and marriage. We’ve moved house together. And now we’re committing ourselves to working together as internationally touring, diary writing musicians and songwriters. Can I please remind you, we first physically met less than four weeks ago.

Day 27

Thursday March 18, 2021

Mark:

We tend not to talk about Sarah related stuff in the apartment, good or bad. Today while we’re out and about, we agree that while we love the touring idea, we’re not just going to look at upping and leaving as soon as we can. We’ve been given this opportunity of our own apartment based on Sarah needing someone in it and to take off anytime in the next few weeks would be a bit of a betrayal of that. And besides, should the visa situation be sorted, it would be no hardship to stay here in London for a while. I kinda had the same thoughts when I first came to London with that office job Paul had got for me while I was still living in Madrid. The boss there really came through, giving me the job on Paul’s say so and on the strength of a one minute phone conversation with me. Although I was itching to dive into London’s music scene and really start my journey there, I decided to commit to that job for at least six months, maybe even a year, and maybe gently work myself into music at the same time. As it happened of course, it all fell apart after just two weeks which blew all my good will apart. As a friend said at the time, when the hurricane was still at its fiercest, that was the best thing that could have happened to me as it left me free to follow my London path. I had already begun to harbour such thoughts myself and did my best to agree, but damn it was hard to do so.

Maja:

So if I’m going to stay in London, I need a visa. And our lovely friend Sarah is very well connected so she decides to help me have a look at that. First things first, she asks me to write up a CV so she can send that to her lawyer friend so he can have a look on how to make this happen. I do and she has a look and she’s mighty impressed. She discovers now that I’m an engineer and not some kind of damsel in distress that she had imagined. She still sends it off to see if I could get a visa in some kind of way, but the reality is like this, I could get a visa. A working visa. 

So why don’t I just do that then? Honest answer, I am not ready to do that. I am going through a divorce and that has put tremendous pressure on me, so I don’t feel like I could do that right now. 

I might do that later, but also, if you take that route you get stuck in the same job with a lot of terms, and I might want to reduce the amount of time I work to get more time doing the things I value in life such as doing music. And with a working visa I would get stuck in the same squirrel wheel everyone is in, and I am right now dying to get out of. 

I might want to take a freelancing job for some money, or work half time or something else, but I don’t want to commit to working full time right now. I just can’t commit to that.

So for now, I continue to look for a situation to coexist with Mark. And Sarah, with her newfound knowledge of me not being a damsel in distress as she previously thought, is starting to change her attitude about me… 

Mark:

Sarah’s met a guy around the local area called Dee. She had him round the apartment a few days ago for a bit of a social and really liked his vibe and where he seemed to be going musically. He’s into production and rap and she thinks he could be a good fit for us, whatever ‘us’ means. So we settle on a rough rehearsal time – all times are rough around here, and around 6pm, all four of us are in the main room and ready to see what kinds of sounds we can make. Me and Maja have been rehearsing a little by this point and have worked out something of a system for jamming and this is our first chance to try it out. It works quite well and there really is something of a special vibe with the two of us playing together. Bass is all about feel, and that’s exactly what we’re talking about here. We settle on something simple with Maja playing single, steady root notes and me playing grooves and solos over them. Well, I’ve never had such a feeling playing over such a simple beat. All the emotion is in those single notes and I’m able to feed of that and produce some really great feeling grooves that have Dee moving all over the place and singing and rapping like it’s the most effortless thing in the world. This feeds back into what we’re doing and we hit a new level, which Dee takes up to move himself even more and so the cycle goes. As it builds and builds, Sarah starts to sing as well, so we have the two of them really going for it as me and Maja keep things burning here, with Maja holding the full bottom rhythm as I play off the two singers while keeping the groove going for them at the same time. As this continues, as the dual basses pump and rumble, the dancing starts and we feel the start of something really special coming together. We jam through a few more bits and pieces for twenty minutes or so and then stop to collect our thoughts. Sarah has seen enough. ‘This is serious,’ she declares. ‘The power and vibe of the four personalities in this room is just huge. This is on. We all look at each other and agree. Myself, Maja and Sarah already feel like we have a massive collective personality, like we could take on anything and Dee has just come and fitted right into that, while adding a whole new dimension of positivity. Apart from anything else, he loves the vibes and positivity given off by me and Maja, loves the whole feel of the two of us playing bass, and, as a particular fan of bass, really likes the way I play individually. There’s so much more that can be tried as well. This really looks set. ‘Guys, we’re doing this,’ says Sarah. Twice a week, maybe three times a week, in here for two hours at a time, no messing about. Yeah?’ We all look at each other and smile. Yes, it’s on. This is happening. On top of everything else, Maja is now in a band. But there’s more. A member of an international chart topping band has expressed an interest in joining us. But not just that. This is someone from one of Maja’s favourite bands. Sarah tells us about this, but warns us that if it happens, this person might well try to take it over as their project. We look at each other again. No. This is ours. Don’t care who it is, no thanks. Maja leads the charge on this. So now, not only is she in her first London band, she’s now also turned down the opportunity of working with someone from one of her favourite bands. This is all getting a bit surreal.

Day 28

Friday March 19, 2021

Late morning and we hear strange voices in the apartment. We don’t bother to go and see who it is, or what’s going on, but we don’t need to. After about ten minutes, we hear whoever it is leave, and then Sarah comes into our room, barely able to hold onto herself through the tears of laughter. ‘Guys, you’re not going to believe this,’ she says. ‘The neighbours downstairs have just had their ceiling fall in. It has to be because of the bass frequencies and the dancing from last night. We might just have to tone it down a little.

Day 30

Sunday, March 21, 2021

Maja:

I am new in England. I’ve never been to England before and in England they have their dishes they are very proud of. Such as the English roast dinner. So as a welcome, Sarah decides to cook one for us. Sarah loves to cook, but recently she hasn’t had that many reasons to cook living alone and being a vegetarian. So she offers to cook us dinner, a wonderful pork roast with crackling and roast goose fat potatoes. Brilliant, thankyou very much. 

Me and Mark go about our day, having a lovely walk, writing some lyrics, and time flies. As we return home Sarah greets us with the most lovely roast dinner, and it is amazing. Absolutely brilliant. Roast pork with a thick layer of crackling. Yorkshire puddings. The most amazing roast goose fat potatoes cooked from scratch, golden and crispy on the outside with the softest inside you can imagine of a potato. Of course served with roasted veggies and gravy. 

I would have loved to have share this meal with all three of us, but Sarah says that she’s so happy to have made it but would never eat something like this. But that we should enjoy it. So she leaves the apartment to hang with one of her guys and we are left alone. With this feast. It’s one of the best meals I’ve ever had. Me and Mark enjoy it fully and after we put things away, we go to sleep. Blissfully unaware of what will happen next.

When Sarah comes home, she can’t resist having some of those incredible duck fat roast potatoes that she had made, and it just doesn’t sit right with her. They just don’t fit with her new strict healthy living regime so she decides to fast for three days straight to set things right for herself. Not long before we came here, she’d also decided to stop smoking. Other things have gone too, and all good, but now on top of that she’s having a three day fast. It’s just too much. She is trying too hard. This just does something to her personality, making her fragile and unpredictable and ready to pick any argument even if you’re agreeing with her. There will still be moments of fun and togetherness, but all punctuated by too many down moments. This quickly marks the beginning of the end for us here, and no matter how much we try, things will never really be quite the same again.

Day 31

Monday March 22, 2021

Mark:

The Lord Palmerston sends out a group message, through my friend and assistant manager Duran, to ask when we’ll be available to be back. I answer I’ll be ready as soon as needed. This is the first sign that the furlough, which I’ve been on since mid December, and which even made this thing with Maja possible in the first place, could be coming to an end but there’s no indication of when that could actually happen which would be nice to know. Alright, it’s supremely frustrating not knowing but I suspect even the company doesn’t know exact details yet so I’ll just have to leave it for now.

There’s more frustration as Sarah tells us we can’t shower anymore as water is now dripping into the apartment downstairs following the ceiling collapse. We have no idea what is going on structurally, but there are some large holes in our bathroom walls, and it seems drops of water are going through them, collecting then dripping downstairs. We are told we have to have just baths from now on. Bugger. Far from ideal, but we’ll have a go.

Maja:

We try to have a bath while Sarah is out. Sorry for not being more grateful with the whole free rent thing, but it’s the most disgusting bath ever. There’s mould everywhere, and you have to sit in the tub trying to get clean. After getting up from the bath the water is black with mould and dirt. It’s making me sick. And apparently I’m not allowed to do anything about this situation. 

Mark:

It could just be that the bath has been filled up to and kinda past the overflow and maybe that’s not the best idea as it seems that’s where everything comes from, and I’m sure Sarah doesn’t have baths in this black stuff so maybe we’ve done something wrong. But no. Not ideal.

Day 32

Tuesday March 23, 2021

Mark:

Wow. There have been a few brief re-openings of the bars but today incredibly marks the one year anniversary of the announcement of the first lockdown in the UK and here we still are. But it’s also fun(?) to note that yesterday was the day we got the message that we would be opening up again, again. 

Meanwhile, our daily experience really is going up and down. It goes up this morning as Sarah stakes another claim for best housemate in the world by bringing us breakfast in bed this morning. And I mean the full real deal. Bacon, duck eggs, toast, tomatoes, and beans. And of course, obligatory by law when providing an English breakfast, steaming cups of tea which keep coming as required. 

We get all that down us, chill a little while longer then, with the apartment’s milk supplied depleted courtesy of Sarah’s breakfast teas, pop across the road to pick up some more milk. Almond milk, mind. It’s really lovely and sunny and we are very well fortified so we feel like staying out and getting a bus into town. So, back at the apartment building, Maja waits outside while I run the milk upstairs. We’re just going to get the first bus that comes along.

Here it is and we see it takes us to Victoria, which means I get to surprise Maja with a walk down what looks like a nondescript street along a mysterious barbed wire topped wall. What’s behind that wall? She discovers when we round a corner and there it is. Buckingham Palace. A walk from there, then up the mall to Trafalgar Square and once there, we simply have to go round that corner to give Maja her first look at The Marquis, sadly closed, but there it is. Also round this area, Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus up a little to Carnaby street and then a general walk around. A few hours of this and we’re almost done, but then just as we’re thinking about taking a bus back home, we come across Fortnum and Mason. Means nothing to Maja, but I’ve never been in here and I really think we should, so we do. What we find is the most spectacular food and drink shop, complete with its spiral staircase going down to the most colourful fruit and veg display I’ve ever seen. Through all this we find the whiskey and brandy section and we simply have to have a look through all that. This is kind of like a mini Harrods. Like a Harrods but just a big food and drinks shop which happens to have a bottle of brandy that goes for 23 thousand quid. Shop assistant Andrew takes us through their ranges with Maja really keen on finding a good peaty whiskey. She settles on a high range bottle of Ardbeg which you would definitely not find in your average supermarket. After this, it’s onto the cheese section where she finds a perfect Gruyere to accompany a bottle of red wine sometime. 

Then it’s onto a sunny bus home. This really feels like the first day in a long time where there have been no events to bring us down at all. Everything is just fine and stress free and here we are having a lovely walk round Londontown. 

Day 33

Wednesday March 24

Mark:

Sarah continues the breakfast theme and wakes us this morning with toast and tea. We will really have to be careful to not get too used to this.

She tells us she’s decided that if we can patch the shower up so that it definitely, definitely does not drip anywhere, we can use it. This is something of a relief so we get to work. We go out to the local hardware store and buy what we think we need to do a patch up job. With different types of cut out parts of bin bags and shopping bags and a lot of tape, we fix the holes around the bath where water has been leaking through. It isn’t pretty but it sure looks effective. It looks like we’re back on.

Maja:

Well. As long as I don’t do anything permanent I should be able to find a way of making the shower usable again. So I drag Mark to the hardware store. I’m going to fix this. I’m not allowed to actually fix the cracks with grout – that has to be done by the council that refuses to come – so I’ll have to find a solution that works without doing anything permanent. 

I pick up three of the cheapest available shower curtains, and some tape. With which I fully waterproof the bathtub area so you can shower. As I finish, it is once more usable, and no water will fall on the floor and drip to the neighbours. This is a big accomplishment for me. Only one thing. The bathroom is left looking like one of those rooms that people use for murders in horror movies. 

Mark:

Through this job we’ve discovered a couple more things that we could get on with. One of them is to maybe replace the lino in the bathroom. This seems like quite a big change so I think it’s prudent to ask Sarah if it would be OK. She’s almost offended by the question. In a weary tone, bizarrely managing to snap at the same time, she says, ‘Mark, I’ve told you. This is your place. Do what you want. I couldn’t care less what you do. Stop asking.’ Despite the tone, I guess there’s a kind of love in that response.

We haven’t heard at all from Sarah’s lawyer friend, but she says he can be a bit like that and not to worry about it. Then, standing in the centre of the main room, she says, ‘Hang on a minute.’ She closes her eyes, goes into deep concentration mode and faces her head towards the ceiling. When she opens them again, she looks at us with total confidence and says, ‘I just asked my guys and got the answer back. You two will be fine. Maja isn’t going anywhere.’ Two words. O and K. When I speak to Maja about this later, she rationalises it, saying that what Sarah is actually doing is concentrating and going on gut feeling and claiming, or actually believing, that that is coming from some other place to give her a message. 

Since it was declared that we would rehearse two or three times a week, no messing, we haven’t yet managed one follow up. There’s an attempt at it tonight with a rehearsal declared, but with no explanation, we later learn it’s been cancelled. Oh well. We take the opportunity to instead take a bottle of red wine up to Hampstead Heath to sit on our favourite bench on the top of Parliament Hill and look down on the beautiful and spectacular city centre view with some Gruyere as a perfect accompaniment. A wonderful escape from what is increasingly feeling like a chaotic, ever changing and unpredictable lifestyle. Oh yeah. Dee apparently lives with us now. We’ve not been working with him so much but he has been spending more and more time here. That was cool, but then today Sarah announced that he’s moved in. Fine. We guess. Whatever she keeps telling us, it is of course her place and she can do what she wants with it, but what’s happened to the thing where she was never going to be here and it was to be our place to do what we wanted and then she was going long term travelling and leaving it all to us? This is increasingly looking like not being a thing. She hasn’t even been away once yet. Instead, what we’ve experienced is being told a whole bunch of times that she had plans to go away, then those dates have come and gone and have been completely unobserved with no mention of any kinds of plans or cancellations. Again, totally her prerogative of course, but it is all a little strange, slightly unnerving, and starting to veer ever so slightly off course from the brochure message we received at the start of all this.

Day 34

Thursday March 25

Oh dear. Sarah’s on the unpredictable path again. She comes into our room today, pretty much unannounced – fair enough; that’s how it goes in this communal, walking round the apartment, into each others’ rooms naked, food sharing thing we have going now. But it’s far from a friendly visit. Out of nowhere she says she doesn’t want to work with us anymore. The reason? We read her some of our lyrics yesterday and she’s latched onto one line, totally misunderstood it and put her own interpretation on it. She’s saying that it was our subconscious way of telling her we didn’t want to work with her so she’s deciding now that we won’t. Er, what?

The offending line is. ‘With others it’s not the same.’ This is a line comparing our relationship with the way we, or most people, are with other people; external stimuli are usually required to hang out – TV, drinking, music, video/boardgames, sport, whatever. We’re saying in that song, and it’s quite clear, that for me and Maja to hang out with each other, we often require absolutely no external stimuli or diversions. Remember that first five days? The two of us and the ceiling. No TV, music, reading or alcohol. Nothing. There’s no-one either of us has ever spent time with that way. With others it’s not the same. Most people need activities to do when they hang out. Even the best of friends. We often don’t. With others it’s not the same. Without even talking to us about this, Sarah has decided it means that we work well when it’s just the two of us, but when others become involved it’s not the same. Meaning, in her world, we think that when she’s involved it’s not the same. Who would deliver a message like that in such a subliminal way and expect it to be understood? This is totally twisting words we’ve actually written down and read to her. This is not the last time she will get angry with us for something we may or may not have been thinking. The difference is that this time we’re able to persuade her that she’s got it all wrong. She eventually leaves the room having been convinced of that, saying she loves working with us and hopes it continues and continues. Well, that’s what she’s saying now. But working with us? We’ve done one 20 minute rehearsal and had every other rehearsal since then cancelled. But at least we’ve averted a bad atmosphere. For now.

Maja:

An artist comes over to leave some art supplies and Mark says hello. I spend the time singing. Afterwards, we talk a bit more to Sarah, who has been talking to a female friend of hers who is currently living in Scotland. This friend wants to live in London and Sarah says she’s offered her a room here so she will probably move in with us. So now, from being offered our own apartment, it’s gone to Dee has moved in – although we’ve yet to fully see evidence of that – to someone else might be moving in. At this rate, even if Sarah ever does go away saying it’s ‘our’ place, at any given time we feel there could be a knock on the door and it could be someone we don’t know saying they live here now.

We feel a little unsettled about all this, but are still resolved to make the most of the opportunity. We go back to our room and decide to practice some easy singing. This is where Mark puts on some music, plays along to it on the bass and I sing along to what’s playing. First we go for a couple of Jack Johnsson songs, then we try Laleh which Mark totally doesn’t get, then we go for RHCP. I’m used to singing RHCP, so when I do that, I can finally get some power in my voice and it feels more like it used to. We’re trying to make out some parts of Californication and feeling pretty good about it when Sarah comes into our room, saying she wants to film this great vibe we have going. But all we’re doing is singing along to famous songs. This really isn’t something we want recorded and put out there. This is also totally destroying the flow we’d got into. But OK. Mark decides to go for what she wants and says A1 – we’ve developed a few shorthand codes for playing together. A1 is a particular type of simple groove that I play and then he solos over it. So I have to grab my bass, tune up and find a groove. It doesn’t go well and it completely breaks our flow. I end up just playing A. Mark tries to solo over it, but his concentration after having his own momentum broken as well isn’t quite having it. We both feel pressured and frustrated over the situation and we have to tell Sarah it just isn’t happening and to please not use whatever she’s just recorded. She says, ‘No problem. Deleted.’ Great. Then we try to get back to what we were doing before she barged in, but with the frustration in the air, it just isn’t happening. We look at each other with a sigh and just know. So we stop, take a shower, and go on a walk just to refresh our minds. It’s lovely outside, but with the frustration in the air, it just doesn’t feel nice. All we can think is that we had finally started doing something and it felt good, and then that feeling just got stolen from us. And put onto virtual videotape. That, along with everything having changed from what we were originally told when we first moved in, has really taken the shine off the whole thing. Exactly where is this all going?

Day 35

Friday March 26, 2021

Mark:

Early today we go out on another of what Maja calls our panic walks, or at least crisis walks, as we continue to take in the thought of yet another person being offered a room here in what we were promised was going to be our own place. What is going on? We were told that this would be ours. Fine, Sarah can do what she wants with her own home, we totally get that. But please don’t promise something that isn’t going to be delivered. Rent and deposit free? Damn yes. That was unbelievable enough. With that, we would have completely accepted that other people would be around as well. But that’s not how it was sold. We were told she would be travelling and we would have it all to ourselves. For years, she’s even said on a few occasions. 

This is all starting to feel like it’s kind of falling apart around us. No, we definitely did not sign up for this.

Downstairs is leaking again. What we did should have been good enough, and Sarah thought it was, and even agrees that it looked like we’d blocked all the possible leaks. But there’s so much going on with these walls it was clearly impossible to catch them all. She requests we stop using the shower again. With that bath we had the other day, just not happening. We will sort this. There has to be a way. Maja comes up with it as she has the idea to first buy more shower curtains. We do that, and then return to put them up around the whole inner bath area. So now we really have created a fully sealed, totally unleakable shower. A skeptical Sarah comes to have a look and loves it, which is a big relief because it’s one thing not being able to shower, a whole other thing to think of the prospect of that bath we had the other day.

The fact that we have a shower again feels like something of a new start. Our space isn’t quite as much our own as we thought it would be but it could yet get there. However, our time is our own. With that we come to a conclusion and make a decision. We decide to cancel time. No more clocks. We’ve realised we really don’t need them.

Day 36

Saturday March 27, 2021

Mark:

This cancelling time thing is seriously cool. We really are going about our day with absolutely no idea what time it is, which is incredibly liberating, if a little frustrating when you inadvertently catch sight of a clock – which makes the big one in the main room a tad inconvenient. I’ve been on furlough for a while now, on and off but even so, and have generally got up when awake, slept when ready to sleep, and ate when hungry so time hasn’t been a massive factor in my life for quite a while. But now, we really are working to the rhythm of our own clocks with no idea even of how long we’re doing a particular activity. It should be acknowledged right now that this whole thing is made easier, or even possible, by the fact that we’re very central within London; just about all public transport, apart from the latest or earliest of hours, comes within ten minutes, usually within five, so there’s no need to check or observe timetables. Even night buses can be as little as 15 to 20 minutes apart, especially when you’re looking to get back to Camden from Trafalgar Square. Easy.

Well, it is all easy until Sarah knocks on our door at 1am and says, ‘You guys have cancelled time and that’s all really cute and fun and all that, but the people downstairs haven’t. Did you know it’s one O’Clock? And you really are being a bit too loud.’ Oh sorry, we really didn’t have any idea. OK. Fair enough.

We might have to think a bit more about how to do this. We conclude that if it’s light we can assume we can be as loud as we want, but if it’s dark maybe be a bit more mindful.

Day 37

Sunday March 28, 2021

I made a full English breakfast for me and Maja yesterday while Sarah danced and sang in the main room. This will be the backdrop to the greatest disaster in the apartment yet.

First, Sarah’s been doing a lot of dancing and singing in the apartment lately. Brilliant. It’s added a greatly energetic vibe and we’re very happy to be living within it, even on a day like yesterday when she dominated the main room with it. Great. Go for it. We’ll stay out of your way and do our thing, inspired by your thing. And it really has worked so much the other way with Sarah saying we have inspired and lifted her mood so much just by being here and by being us.

So yeah. Yesterday. Full English breakfast. Me and Maja eating that in our room at our window overlooking our part of central London. Just brilliant. The kitchen, as you know by now, is tiny. So Maja walked back to our room and past Sarah while I carried on in there while Sarah danced away to her music while checking out her form in the full width mirror. On the way, Sarah caught Maja’s eye through that mirror. The wrong kind of eye apparently. I’m about to find out just how wrong.

It begins to unfold first thing in the morning with a disaster we already had in waiting that we had no idea of

I’m up and going to the toilet and Sarah, all warmness and blessings, calls me in. I ask her to hang on, pay my visit, then come back and pay my visit. Sarah’s temperature has dropped about 10 degrees. She is no longer all warmness and blessings. She’s all fine with me though, she assures me. Oh yes. All fine with me. It’s Maja that’s the problem, she says. What the hell is this? ‘I received some feedback from some friends this morning about your video,’ she says. What video? What friends? ‘The one I recorded in your room a few days ago.’ Oh. OK. Not a great start. Didn’t we agree that was to be immediately deleted? Didn’t Sarah herself say it was deleted? While she was standing there holding the phone in her hand? Well apparently not only had she not deleted it, but she sent it to people. By all accounts, very influential people. Her people. That she says she’s been hoping to work with with us. Maybe even get funding from. Yeah, this has been a thing that has been mentioned a lot and I have absolutely no idea what it means. ‘They’ve come right back and asked what the hell I’m doing letting that negative energy in my house. They’ve told me I should not have that energy in my house.’ You’re talking about what exactly? I don’t say anything. Sarah calls up what she now knows as the clearly offensive video on her phone and shows it to me.

‘Look at that,’ she says, zooming in on Maja’s face – Maja, who at the time was being suddenly filmed deep in concentration and in some mild distress while she was struggling to come up with something on the spot to jam. And yes, feeling intruded on while we were very much in the middle of something. ‘Look at that scowl. That negativity. In my house. People have seen this and said this is a bad vibe that I should not be having or allowing in my own home. And do you know about yesterday morning?’ I do not know about yesterday. Yesterday Sarah danced and we had breakfast. Please tell me about yesterday. ‘It was the same again. Maja walked past me as she came through the room and looked at me in the mirror like I was some piece of dirt or something. Just a look of aggression.’ I have no idea what Sarah’s talking about and I just know that if I mention this to Maja, she will have no idea either. I’m in a state of disbelief. To deny anything would just be to admit there’s a problem. To apologise would be to admit there’s a problem. To say I’ll talk to Maja about it would be to admit there’s a problem. To tell Sarah she’s imagining it all would cause a problem. If I say nothing, I’m kind of admitting it’s a problem. I say nothing. So Sarah continues to talk, confirming that yes, there might just be a problem here. ‘Maybe living here isn’t the best thing for you guys,’ she says matter of factly and suddenly with a hint of sympathy in her voice. Maybe you’d like to think about looking for somewhere else.’ She speaks that last sentence with something approaching compassion, like she’s doing us a favour. It’s not kicking us out. It isn’t even remotely asking us to leave, but it’s the first time anything like this has been remotely suggested. And once a conversation like that has popped up, it really doesn’t go back in the box very easily. Where exactly? Wasn’t getting this place the impossible? For the first time I have the realisation that Maja was totally right to keep the rent up on her room in the house to keep it open. But surely no. We won’t be needing that. This, whatever the hell this is, can be worked out. I gently tell Sarah I don’t really understand and that I’m sure things are all good. She smiles sweetly and says, ‘I’m sure they are darling. I’m sure they are. Yeah. You go and talk to Maja.’ I’m grateful for that hint that the conversation is over and I leave Sarah’s room and head back to ours. Which, until very recently was Sarah’s. Until she gave it to us and she came into this tiny room to sleep on a mattress on the floor.

Back in bed and Maja of course wants to know what I was speaking to Sarah about. Is there a problem? Hmm. I really don’t want to cause a panic here so I say that things are fine, but there may just be something of a misconception that could be cleared up. Maja’s listening now. I tell her about the mirror incident. Get me. Incident. Damn. She’s stunned. It wasn’t something she’d even thought about. I’ve already decided I’m not going to mention the video. I think that on top of everything else, that could really cause a blow up so I’m keeping that to myself and Sarah. For now. Maja says she’ll go and talk to Sarah now about whatever this misunderstanding is. Before long, I hear them both giggling away and talking affectionately. By the time Maja returns, it’s clear that all is sweetness and light again. But for how long?

We get ready without any real hurry, then decide to go out for the day. We have no particular destination in mind, just catch the first bus that comes along. We take that bus to Kings Cross and then just get the first bus we see from there. Which goes to Elephant And Castle, quite a long way south of the river. Us north Londoners don’t cross the river too often – the South Bank doesn’t count – so this is a rare excursion into unknown territory. It’s just cool to be out and to take in some different streets and scenery. That area also boast the Imperial War Museum. It’s closed, of course, but the out front display is still there – an enormous double field gun, which we take time to marvel at.

After a few aimless wandering hours, we see a bus heading to central London so hop on that. From Trafalgar Square we walk all the way back home, but when we arrive at our street we just don’t feel like going in. So we carry on walking and end up going all the way to Holloway, where we continue walking aimlessly until eventually we see a bus coming towards us and heading to our area. Yeah. It’s time to go back. We’ve walked over 11 miles today.

Day 40

Wednesday March 31, 2021

Mark:

A reminder incase it’s needed, that with all bars in the UK being shut due to Covid, I’ve been on furlough from the bar since late December and so all the time Maja’s been here. And my furlough pay has been generous enough so I’ve been quite comfortable. Today I discover I’ll be starting back at the bar on April 11. This happens in the form of a text message for us to check the rota. I go and see mine and it covers two weeks of around 30 hours a week. When I tell Maja this she just goes quiet. I go and make a cup of tea, and when I come back I encounter a very pensive looking Maja. Something is clearly up. I don’t even ask, I know she’ll start talking when she’s ready. When she does, I’m totally stunned.

‘I don’t want you to go back to the bar,’ she says. What? How the hell is that supposed to happen? She reads my unspoken question and continues. ‘I have enough money for both of us to get by for a considerable amount of time.’ How long, she doesn’t exactly know but says that can be worked out. But she’s done the emotional maths, saying that whatever the hourly rate of the bar is, she’d feel much more value in that time if it was dedicated to her, to us and to what we’re working towards. As long as I’m not here, whatever I might be contributing financially, I won’t contributing in time. And time I can spend here, she’s decided, is worth so much more than whatever bar company economics has decided my time is worth there.

She really doesn’t like the idea of me being away for whole days or evenings, and is doubtful of how much time, focus and energy I’ll be able to bring to our projects when I’m not working. She’s done the equations and feels they really don’t add up. I start to speak, but she asks me to please not allow pride to come into it. ‘I know you feel it’s important for you to pay your way,’ she says, ‘But you will be. In the way I’ve just described. And I know you want this too. Please don’t fight it and just say yes.’ What can I do? I’ll see what I can do. But really, this is huge. Enormous. Game changing. And an unbelievable show of faith in my abilities and simply a show of faith in us. Apart from anything else, I’ve just been asked to quit the day job to concentrate full time on music, and been told the resources are there for me to do that. And also to spend this time with, and working with, the girl I love. But more. It’s all but been demanded – in the very best usage of the word – that I do exactly that. Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted? And so so much more that I could never have thought of. I mean, there’s a beautiful, practically identically minded bass playing girl in the equation as well.

Day 41

Thursday April 1, 2021

As yesterday’s chat settles, a budget gets done today and we estimate we can last 10 months with nothing else coming in. However, if and when the live music scene picks up again, with the reopening of the bars, Mark can be available for any gigs there. We have something of a plan, and it involves making what we do, whatever that really is, our full time job. Our life. Our everything. From now.