Slow Train Coming

Jane's first son, and my boy's half brother, is well over six feet tall now. I clearly remember that at the Notting Hill Carnival years ago, the first time that the three of us went out together, he was still small enough for me to swing up onto my shoulders so he could get a better view of the parade.

I took him to school every day for years, so having him (effectively my stepson) disappear from my life was just one among many wrenching dislocations of the domestic meltdown.

I bumped into him last week. He was fishing on the Wandle with a friend as I was taking a lunchtime stroll.

As we were chatting I told him that I had been taking Muay Thai classes on Monday since April and we remembered that the initial impetus for that had been his. Regular writing here providing the documentary evidence.

To cut a long story short, he came along last night; trained, had fun, and said that he would come regularly in future. It will be good to see him.