London 04/11/1989 Saturday
Had no time to write! Yesterday an acquaintance of Carmen’s arrived here. Her name is Diva Francesca and she’s an opera singer. Poor Diva, used to all sorts of luxuries, ended up in this dump… What you gonna do? She must be older than 60 but she is very youthful, open and friendly. I hadn’t smoked for over a day (my mum said she wouldn’t buy any more cigarettes) and Diva had lots of them! My mum brought a friend of hers here, Paulo Speller (who was arrested in 1968) and we all went out. We went to a very deserted bar. Paulo is so handsome and charming, oh God! He has a son my age but they have gone back to Brazil. They lived here for four years. We talked, mostly about the elections, that’s all Brazilians are talking about, the first democratic elections since the military coup.
Angela is another brazilian who lives in flat 23 and she mentioned there may be a job at Pizza Hut. She will call someone called Patricia who works there. Not a great job, cleaning tables for £2.30 an hour, but it would be great if I got this job!
Today Diva and I filled ourselves up with courage and went out without my mum. We took the tube to Oxford Street and walked the whole length of it, both sides, going inside every single shop. Then we came back, no problems. We bought some food. Then we went out again, to Trafalgar Square and I took her to the tourist bus. We sat at the top, open top, and it was disgracefully cold and windy. I took 30 photos. London is quite something! We got back to Euston station, had a hot chocolate and returned to this depressing flat. My mum was looking for somewhere to live all afternoon.