Thus Lauren into our answering machine this morning, after I refused to listen to her recriminations because she found me in London and not in Reading. “And leave the keys on the table,” she barked at the end of her message. She was calling from Ljubljana, whence we were supposed to go to Istria this weekend to buy a house. To my surprise, the word “my” electrified me. I cleared out at the greatest speed conceivable. And I left the keys on the table, just as Lauren commanded.

Addendum (January 14, 2000)

Actually, it was almost comical how I scampered out of Lauren’s apartment. She first called me at nine, and then kept calling and leaving messages because I would not pick up the phone for more of her abuse. I heard all the messages, including the order to move out, around nine-thirty. I immediately started estimating how long it would take Lauren to show up at the door in the event there was a flight from Ljubljana to London an hour or so after she left the key message, which was around nine-twenty. Everything I did was determined by my guess that she could not possibly return before two o’clock. This was important because many shops in our area are closed until noon on Sundays, and I needed to buy a big bag to pack up my stuff. Not much had remained in London, but it still could not fit into my small knapsack. As soon as I had a reasonable estimate of the earliest time of Lauren’s arrival, I started dashing around the apartment and looking for my things. Everything I found I placed in the middle of the livingroom floor. Books, clothes, compact disks, papers, shoes, soon formed a nice pile. I was finished by ten-thirty. This included a quick shower. Realizing that I had an hour before the shops would open, I decided to take my last walk around Hyde Park. Just after noon, on my way back to the apartment, I bought a cheap Chinese bag in a tourist shop on Queensway, and I rushed home. It did not take me more than a few minutes to fill the bag. I looked around for my things for the last time, put the keys on the livingroom table, and walked out. The door banged behind me as the elevator door opened. It was about twelve-thirty, an hour-and-a-half before Lauren’s earliest possible arrival. I dragged the heavy bag to the curb, and hailed the first taxi. Once in the cab, I started breathing freely once again. I was safe. Lauren will not catch me in or around her place. Once again, I felt like a bird. I was free. Free.