Ashley meets Melissa. Ashley: What happened? Melissa: You had a spell and thought I was someone else. My name is Melissa. You still look a little woozy. Would you like to get some coffee? Ashley: Okay, yeah. I know a place near here.
Outside Brompton Oratory . . .
Ashley: I sit on the stone steps with nothing much to do. I see it all before me. The days of love and toment. If you don't believe me, you can ask Saint Thomas.
Emily: Why do you look for the living among the dead?
Ashley: Hello? Where are you? Nicola: I'm right behind you. Wait for me yeah? unknown in shadows: She's headed home, boss. Do you want I should follow her there? unknown in office: No. We have what we need. That will be all for now.
I practice Russian on the Circle line, 'Очень приятно.'
My tongue sticks to the cold consonants like tourist fingers on a postcard rack:
'Да благословит Господь землю.'
I'm a drink teenage girl laughing on a distant atomic playground.
Soon I will be safe and warm in the glow of your diplomatic immunity. Nicola: 'My koshka! The cold war is over.'
Meanwhile, back in Kensington Gardens . . . Maybe it's nothing. What? What? Or maybe, even then, impervious in London . . . could be a difficult thing . . . if you become naked.
Ashley Looks For The Truth A gang of brave new world lads engaged us for an evening of masks and mayhem.
But these new media boys just want the same old in and out.
They search for the truth but it's all used up.