Becoming Brentwood

Then I looked at a flat in Rose Valley. It was quite acceptable, and even affordable. Surely too good to be true. So I left thinking I must have missed something.  Now that I came to think of it, had there been any windows? Could I really be sure that the walls weren't made of cardboard? I decided to look at it again with a responsible person in tow (Justin). However it turned out that it had indeed been my dream flat, since, as with a dream, it was gone in the morning, when I rang to arrange the second viewing. Even as I had been looking at it the night before some bastard (or bitch) had been claiming it for their own.

So, in a kind of panic, I returned to last week's only promising option - the King's Road flat with the man on the sofa. Now the man was gone, as was the sofa. Remaining were two decent-sized rooms, plus functional kitchen and bathroom. The fridge had no freezer compartment. I'll miss ice - but two rooms... I could choose which would be the lounge and which the bedroom. Or I could have two bedrooms. Or a drawing room and a room full of stuffed animals. There was really no end of possibilities. So I did not hesitate - almost immediately, I initiated a process which could very well result in my renting this flat, subject to certain conditions being met.

That very night, I went out to celebrate with my family in Caffe Uno. To celebrate my Mum's birthday, in fact, but what the Hell. An unpleasant stench occasionally wafted over to us from the back of the restaurant. Presumably this had nothing to do with the fact that they were filming TOWIE in there. A lot of media people in their twenties were scurrying about, more people than you'd think they'd need to create such a piece of... reality. We had to sign forms. Among other things, these gave them permission to film us 'in sexual situations'. As it turned out, none arose during this family meal in the Brentwood branch of a well-known chain of restaurants. But I didn't read the small print - it may be that the form covers the rest of my life. Well, good luck to them.

I was asked to describe myself on the form, and highlight any distinguishing features. 'No distinguishing features', I wrote. It remains to be seen whether I will feature as a blur somewhere beyond Mario, Lucy and Mick, but having made some steps to renting a flat in the heart of Brentwood, and having signed that form on the same day, I now felt that in a way I had truly become a citizen of Brentwood. God help me.