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I was ready to cry again in empathy with the millions I knew were living there on that estuary: in sheer wonder at seeing their world in that way.

Here, you couldn’t do anything else.) The food and drink arrived with great regularity. I wondered how Tio would be, worried a bit about my head, and slept.So I started calling round the airlines and getting more and more depressed as they told me the flights were booked out. I had contracted a peculiar blurring of the vision in my left eye, (as well as, if I admitted it - which I didn’t, a paling of the image) together with a disconcerting intermittent buzzing feeling in the head which lasted only fractions of a second. I kissed Monica goodbye, feeling grateful to this funny, stern young woman for baling me out emotionally, and caught the tube to Old Street (Victoria Line, change to Northern Line at Kings Cross). Even before take-off, in my comfortable seat on the 747, I felt high, and grateful to the people who’d got me there. Overwhelmed with the beauty of the Singapore Airlines kimono-clad flight attendants; astounded that I was suddenly embarking to the other side of the world; full of tenderness for Tio and her predicament.But then, a thought: why not call Tio’s colleagues at the Red Cross? I had decided to see the doctor about it: maybe it was a brain tumour; but of course I assumed it was ‘just an eye problem’. From there it was just a short walk (writing that now is sad but "a short walk" is nice to remember) to Moorfields Eye Hospital. I gave my name to someone behind a glass partition, and settled down in Outpatients to wait. I just had a bit of shopping to do, so I had the whole afternoon and the Guardian. All these things and an eighteen-hour flight in which to steep and mull them.The architect had had the brilliant idea of adding to the sense of space by having a stair well in the centre of the living area and ranging the bedrooms around it on the floor above with only screen walls, head-high, so that anything you did in the bedroom was performed in public.Neither so broad-minded nor so puritan, we weren’t in any mood for physical high jinks anyway. From the next beach you could see the beach-house of Tio’s last Australian boyfriend’s family, which Tio had described to me in nostalgic, sun-drenched, tones back in London. Her body and face show it, so that I am attracted to both them and her.

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