Oliver's diary

21Oct

A Lie With Weight

I enjoyed handing over the decoy. Not enough, never enough, but there was a nasty little thrill in watching the officer believe he had taken something from me.…

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20Oct

The blank roll lied

The blank film bothered me more than the damage to the brass. Damage can be dated, measured, photographed. A blank roll feels like someone reaching into the pas…

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19Oct

The Locked Camera Case

I keep telling myself this is procedure now, but the camera case is still a hiding place, and I am still the boy who wants the prize before anyone else can turn…

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18Oct

Eighteen Minutes Too Convenient

Well, Northbank Heritage Recovery managed to accuse me of trespass before I had even entered the reservoir. That is impressively stupid, or impressively prepare…

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17Oct

The Name Felt Too Light

It is humiliating how much I wanted those volunteers to know it was me. Public courage says let them cheer; privately I wanted their voices to stitch my name in…

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16Oct

My Mark Found Me

I keep coming back to those two words: CLAIMANT IDENTIFIED. Not suspected. Not questioned. Identified. The split-notch mark is mine, and somewhere behind that s…

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15Oct

Keeping Every Receipt

Basil Trent announcing my past to a crowd of cameras was not subtle. Still, there was something almost decent about him pointing straight at me instead of inven…

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14Oct

Evidence Has a Funny Sense of Humour

Femi paid me in paperwork, which is a disappointingly honest substitute for money. I nearly laughed, but anger had hold of me. I kept thinking: if the promise m…

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13Oct

Fraud Is a Strong Word

Fraud is a strong word for a man who confused technical evidence with a personality. Still, I felt it land, and that is the part I hate: the cameras made the ac…

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12Oct

The Bit That Stayed Untouched

Keeping the recording private would have made a rather poor headline. Still, I sent the producer the amended rider, and I felt cleaner than any headline could h…

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11Oct

Successful exits and trusted people

Ben's date chose the bus and I called it a win because that's what I do — I make the exit sound like a feature. She didn't want to stay. That's the data. I logg…

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10Oct

Architect of my own trap

Ellis did it tonight. He stopped mid-sentence, looked at this woman across a table full of fake plague victims, and said "I'm nervous." Just that. No joke. No N…

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9Oct

The woman with the lanyard

She had a supermarket lanyard. Sainsbury's, maybe. Didn't clock the name because I was too busy not existing — hood up, staring at my phone like it was a legal…

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8Oct

The Northern One

The bloke in the Black Cab fleece said "good luck with the Northern one, mate" and I didn't correct him. I could've said "it's Edinburgh, actually, the show's a…

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7Oct

Kit can have it

The Chortle thing I could have laughed about. Kit's a mate, right? He's done the Torrington slot before, he deserves it, he probably didn't even know it was min…

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6Oct

The Drabble pile and the closed notebook

Rae not smiling should have told me something. I clocked it and then I didn't. Eight Drabbles and I thought I was winning and she was looking at me like I was s…

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5Oct

Selling it before the punchline

Steph said it like she was being kind. That is the worst way to be wrong about someone. If she'd said it cruel I'd have a reason to sit with it all night on the…

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4Oct

The torch and the receipt

She saw me. That is the part I keep turning over. Not looked at — saw. I was walking along Caledonian Road at half eleven, footsteps behind me, and a woman with…

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3Oct

The laugh and the lie

Mum actually handed my flyer to a BBC nephew. A BBC nephew, Ruth. I said BBC nephew and she laughed and I laughed and then I heard the sound and it was the firs…

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2Oct

The quilted coat woman

The woman in the quilted coat. I keep thinking about her. Not in a weird way — in the way where I am trying to figure out if she was real or if I invented her i…

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1Oct

The line under Kit's name

The printout is Blu-Tacked to the staff door and I'm trying not to look at it every time I pass but obviously I'm looking at it every time I pass. Same paragrap…

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30Sep

brave is just a word Pryce picked

The bus stop bit worked. Eight minutes and the room gave me the bus stop. The teenager with the phone, the clip at full volume, my own voice coming out of someo…

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29Sep

The man with Pryce's handshake

A man I have never seen before knew my name before I said it. That's the thing I can't get past. Pryce sends his best, he said, like they were sharing a table a…

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28Sep

Pryce's man in the room

The plaster's coming off in the shower and I let it. Stupid, but I wanted to see if the cut was still a cut or if it had become something else. Still a cut. Sma…

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27Sep

The note and the bruise

The kid who handed me that note — eight, maybe, third row — drew a Vauxhall Corsa in blue biro under GOOD LUCK. Not the joke. The actual car. He thought the bit…

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26Sep

The No That Went Public

I said no, and somehow the no got a better audience than most of my jokes. There is a special kind of humiliation in being quoted for refusing to give someone a…

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25Sep

The Email Has Teeth

I keep trying to make the BBC email funny. Three sentences, and somehow the third one has got its hand around my wrists. “Material you have not performed public…

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24Sep

Four seconds at the mic

The silence happened in public today. Not the version I wrote, the cleaned one. The real one. Four seconds at the mic in Kentish Town and a woman in the second…

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23Sep

The panic attack page is public now

Dev caught the Moleskine. The page was facing up. THE PANIC ATTACK (TAKE 4) was facing up. I made a joke. Something about my one reliable opening. He laughed. P…

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22Sep

Six days and a hot coin

Six days. That's the number I've been counting since I read Helen's email four times at the till while a woman stood there with her paperback out. The woman did…

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