16 July 2004

It’s summer in London and there is an Australian on the bar in the Trader.

She wears pearl-pink heels, a pleated grey cotton skirt and she has an open pink plastic umbrella over one shoulder, despite the possible bad luck. She is short enough that she can twirl the umbrella with one hand and bounce an inflatable beach ball in the other without hitting the roof with either, for she is ON the bar, pacing and humming show tunes under her breath. She hasn’t been drinking. She is just bored and the pub is almost empty, so why not?

Later she talks to the few barflies around, telling them she is a Retired Boot Scooting Champion, having won the World Title aged twelve. Post retirement she has established herself in the Karaoke Video Clip Industry in Singapore, and is doing very well for herself. Australian? I sure am! My Mum gave birth to me on Ayres Rock in the hope I would somehow be able to draw Azaria Chamberlain’s spirit to her so she could find out the truth of what happened.

On the way home the Tube provides a soundtrack for her night as the doors open to stations with buskers playing progressively Jazzier tunes down the Central Line.