Portobello Puff - Chapter 7

Hannah and Geoff aren't your typical Notting Hill dwellers. Hannah lives above Poundland in Portobello Road in a rent subsidised flat, barely bigger than a Bran Flakes box. She freelances from home for a Health and Well-being website, suffers from panic attacks and the psoriasis on her left elbow is spreading rapidly. Her best mate Geoff has had three novels rejected, can't afford to liberate his only suit from the dry cleaners and survives on a diet of fried egg sandwiches...

'So what did your GP prescribe for the panic attacks?' asks Geoff, idly inspecting a vibrant yellow stain on his sleeve.

'Magnesium and meditation,' I say. 'Apparently magnesium is good for anxiety and meditation will help with what she calls my catastrophic thinking.' Dr Ling is annoyingly alternative in her approach to medicine. I wish she'd just give me a big bucket of valium.

'Do you think I have catastrophic thinking?' I say, staring through the Coffee Plant window at Linda's fruit stall, where an old man looks like he's about to take a nasty tumble over a box of Bramleys.

'Oh, no,' says Geoff. 'Not at all.'

I neck a handful of magnesium-rich almonds and think about Dr Ling's advice that I should write down my most common thoughts to check for recurring themes.

Top 3 most common thoughts:

1. Am I doomed to write for a Health and Well-being website forever, while the panic attacks spiral out of control and my psoriasis-riddled body increasingly resembles that of Dede the Indonesian fisherman, aka Half Man Half Tree, whose limbs erupted in crusty bark-like protrusions so big they had to be hacked off with a saw?

2. Am I destined to ricochet from one hopeless relationship to another?

3. Is this it?

'What do you think about most of the time?' I ask Geoff.

Geoff shrugs. 'Usual stuff - how all musicals should be banned, how hummus is a ridiculous invention, how I'll feed those six Guatemalan orphans I'm planning to adopt...'

'Be serious,' I say.

Geoff sips his black coffee. 'Well, today I'm mostly thinking about what the Westway club will be serving for lunch tomorrow.'

Once in a while when he's really skint, Geoff volunteers at a local charity that provides lunch and afternoon entertainment for the elderly. The lunch part is a big pull.

'If you have to wear the hat again, will you take a picture?' I say. The last time Geoff volunteered there, he had to wear a shower cap to ladle out the Lancashire hot pot.

Geoff makes a tutting sound. 'You're turning into a cruel and bitter woman.' He nods to the table behind us where Shakti, the yoga teacher is reading a copy of Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth.

I know I should apologise to her for my outburst a couple of weeks ago, but I just don't want to.

I crunch on a few more almonds. 'I'm going on a date tonight,' I say.

'A date?!!' Geoff hasn't been on a date since his girlfriend Natalie left him two years ago.

'Yes, Geoff. It's where two people get together to talk and drink alcohol and find out if they want to do it again the following week. It's all the rage in London, apparently.'

'With who?'

'He's called Toby. He picked me up in Dr Ling's waiting room.' I'm still not sure why I agreed to meet Toby because he's really not my type, but it beats watching Trawlermen on the Dave channel.

Geoff shakes his head and sighs. 'You silly, silly girl.'

More next Friday...

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