I ask if there’s anything that connects us, the new immigrants. ‘We didn’t fit in at home?’ says Megan, in that way that makes statements sound like questions.
I go to the bank to check money has been transferred and to convert it into shekels. My rent won't be paid without it. This simple job took nearly three anxious weeks last month, but has gone more smoothly this time. I'm thrilled to learn the pound has strengthened by a minuscule amount since I… Continue reading Nathan loves Alberto loves Rufina
I took Nathan, Megan and Rufina to the Museum of Modern Art. It was a bit like a school trip. We met at the Nahat and they were all oddly nervous. Maybe they’ve never been to a gallery before. They wittered about ‘modern’ art. They seemed especially nervous of ‘conceptual’ art. I can't imagine what… Continue reading Art attack
Nathan is cautious with money. In no way is this meant as criticism, I wish I was more like him. He doesn’t like to spend it on food and drink outside the home, it’s how he was brought up. He told me last week that he buys still water because it’s cheaper than fizzy. You may… Continue reading Manta Ray
Rufina’s face changes colour like a cuttlefish, pink to red to white. A tear runs down her cheek.
I reached the shop, down a short alley, and knocked on the door. I knocked again.
She looks behind her, as if to remind everyone of something, and flicks her hair, like a pony flicks its mane.