27 July 2021
Tuesday. Started the new job. Groundskeeper, nights. Two plots, side by side, one rake, one barrow, one shed with a kettle. Signed where they told me to sign.
The management walked me round. Plot one, plot two, the path between them, a lot of very good timber. They said the plots are for a gentleman who wears a top hat and keeps odd hours, and that I am never to disturb him while he is working. I said what does he do. They said he digs. I said so do I. They looked at each other.
I asked how many plots I would be looking after. Two, they said. Only ever two. I asked if that would change. They said it would not, and said it like it was a rule written on the wall somewhere, which it may well be.
A cat came and sat on the barrow while I was being shown round. Grey, one torn ear, very sure of herself. Nobody knows whose she is. I have called her Tuppence because that is about what she contributes.
Start proper next week. Bought a new thermos. The old one had a dent in it from the last job, which I will not go into.
— H., groundskeeper
