Ida had a way of putting things, of slipping something important into any long rambling old spiel of shit, which meant that if you knew her well, you knew you always had to pay attention. Once, I swear, she was talking about the reduced section in Tesco when she suddenly said she might be pregnant. And then carried right on about this hummous that was only nineteen pence. Of course it's attention seeking, but it's something else too. It's like she's trying to normalise things, to make everything that goes on in her broken, muddled brain, the same as what goes on in other peoples brains. Today she started off like this:

'You know, there are certain things that happen to me that I know I'm going to remember for the rest of my life. Y'know?'

Really, Ida, because your life is so much more important and special and meaningful than everyone elses? That was what I was thinking, but I didn't say anything, obviously.

'I don't mean events, everyone remembers events, I mean certain points in time when everything suddenly stops and I think, 'ahhhh yes...here I am...this is me, here now,' and it kind of links me to all the other points where I felt like that. Are you following? I don't know if this is coming out right. I mean, I had one today. I was standing at this station with a name I can't pronounce, Jano something, when it started raining. This wouldn't normally be a big deal, I'm in Berlin after all, but the way it started raining was like this massive devastating ROAR...'

At this point she actually roared. An old Turkish lady looked terrified and moved to the front of the tram.

'Y'know, it had been so sunny and then suddenly, BAM!! And it didn't just rain, it hailed too, and there were these winds. It was like we were on some tropical island or something. It was so weird, in Berlin! So everyone just kind of stopped in the station and everyone faced the windows, and I could tell that everyone was thinking, well, this is it...this could just be the end of the world. It sounds ridiculous now but I just know that was what everyone was thinking. And everyone was elated and free-feeling and smiling at each other because we were all in it together, like we were in some air raid shelter or something. I thought, am I really going to die here? Among these people with their puffed out, shiny faces, and their bum bags? If I really have to stay here, and we're the last people on earth, would I have to have sex with one of these men to ensure the safety of the race?'

Ida's favourite game has always been 'what if...?' as far as I can remember. She used to tell herself that if she didn't do well at skipping, or make the next paving-slab in hops-scotch then I would die a horrible death...never her, always me. And she always told me about it, too. I think I was doomed every other day in childhood.

'Yuk. Anyway, it kind of made me feel sad and want to be at home with Mum, which is a way I haven't felt for a long, long time...maybe not since nursery school. So, y'know, maybe I will come home. Anyway, there it was, this flash of memory, taking a snapshot of it all, ready to put in the album with all my other random fucked-up memories…like this one when we were…'

I didn’t need to listen anymore…there it was. Ida was coming home.

Fuck.