House!

Middlesbrough

Us siblings (apart from the youngest, who's in a home), have a group call to discuss arrangements for my mum and my youngest brother. My mum wants to have her wake in a tiny cafe about the size of a living room in Middlesbrough. And if she has to go into a home, she wants it to be "a Christian one, where they don't play bingo."

We're also a bit worried that she has my brother to stay often, when he has bad epileptic fits that see him thrashing about on the floor. It's been happening for decades, so we're all used to it, but how much longer she'll be able to cope with it by herself I don't know. She's sanguine about it all and doesn't think there's any problem.

Newcastle

To see Kim. Even by her standards, she looked very sexy, in a blue and white dress, and her artfully unkempt hair. She said she feels invisible now she's in her mid-fifties. I can't believe that; when she takes my arm as we leave the pub, I see men look first at her, then me, then thinking you lucky bastard. If only. She said her type is quite big, rough working class lads, so I fail at the first hurdle.

I unwrapped my Christmas presents, the highlight of which was this beautiful tea-light powered lamp. She also gave me some of those name labels you can sew into clothes for children and the confused. "Someone who finds you can send you home again."

Shropshire

Trina has moved into a blank, modern house in an equally featureless village. But it's near to her son and grandchildren, has gardens front and back, and is quiet and dark at night. She was very generous, jumping in first to pay for drinks and meals; it'd be lovely to treat her one day, if I can ever attain solvency again.

When I was still working, we made some plans to go to a couple of concerts this year. I shove the mounting credit card bill to the back of my mind, where it festers and nags.

Bristol

The head nurse rings from the hospital. There's a problem with my DBS, in that I ticked a box -- in good faith -- saying that I have no convictions that are not spent under the Rehabilitation of Offenders Act. However, when the certificate came back, there's a single offence still on my record -- a Contempt of Court conviction from when I was eighteen.

I was up before the magistrates for shoplifting, and when the Court Clerk said "all rise" as the Magistrate came in, I remained seated, saying "I do not recognise this court." I was going through a fervent anarchist phase.

My solicitor requested an adjournment, took me aside and said "look, just go through with it and stand up, otherwise you'll be put on remand in Risley and to be honest, someone like you won't last five minutes in there. I nodded uncommittedly. And refused to stand up for the second time, at which point I was sent straight to jail for a fortnight.

It's not the offence itself that's bothering the hospital; it's that it looks like I have lied on my application form.

And on top of it all, my homemade beer has come out a bit disappointing: malty, sweet and flat. I'll try making some wine next time. I've had better results with fruit wine in the past.