Text © Nicola Field

Soundscape © Peter Karkut

Voice: Karina Jones

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Mayfair was slippery that night     and I slid   
In the open arms of this strong, shining man –
I had sipped ice-cream from his spoon!    
Hot as the sun    magnetic as the moon 
Through the sparkling lanterns left from Christmas,
Everything smudged and Vaseliney, 
Down the dark, dripping backstreet     he led me levitating,
Half-blind in the goldening shimmer
(I would have gone anywhere!)
Past windows crammed with crystals, diamonds,
Arabian nights
Moment by moment     I followed him    lost in lavishness,
Then     rounding the corner onto Regent Street,
We fell in on all the world’s brightest lights
Starry sheets of silvering blue flung fire
On volted lines above our heads
Everyone had broken out      celebrating at last
The cold air stippled     the pavement a hum    
Electricity rained burning from above
And so I faced him     fizzing
The night held us    

And that night
I    still slick from Mayfair
Dreamt of making endless love
with the sun-moon man on scarlet satin cushions,
While    watching us,
thoughtful,
On a sofa opposite,
Was my next-door neighbour Pauline’s former husband!
(I see him sometimes when he comes to take the kids)
I awoke at dawn, hot blood teeming
(I was ready for anything!)
It was just the beginning!   

Endings are difficult
Furtive    a wristwatch is turned to catch the sodium glow
Dizzy, you reel     grasp     the bookcase is not secured to the wall    topples
Invisible glitch     one dimension to the next    
Words so real they can’t be true,
wind back just seconds     if only you could
The past sick but the future     poison

Better to have loved though
Loss is something you can hang on to
Because the ice-cream man simply melted away
After pouring on     stirring and swirling about    
he vapourised
Like dry ice at a pantomime

I dreamt I had a husband once, a smooth-skinned stranger, curly-headed
(He could have had anyone!)
He read a newspaper in our open horsedrawn wedding carriage
My dress was right, silky white    
but my shoes were like a nurse’s: regulation black
He’ll take some notice soon, I thought, he’s legally bound

My neighbour Pauline     sits on an upturned bucket     smoking
she talks of destiny
Disappointment      men and love
“I’m not saying I’ve given up hope” she says,
“but the next one’s going to treat me like a princess!”