us moths

Paul, Judith and I went down to the estate not last weekend but the one before that. On the Sunday. Paul went off doing his own thing and Judith and I just sat watching Claydon House. A single family on the second floor flickered in and out in daily activity, basking in the solitude of their stage. The stars of the show. The exclusiveness of it all had registered. They were happy. Another family picnicked in this, the most unlikely of settings: a 2oth century motte-and-bailey. A barebacked man sat swigging from a 2 litre bottle - but all eyes on the three teenagers massaging the concrete with their fledgling attempts at free running. Their going to break their heads, we all thought.

Paul returned and with that we moved on to the Aylesbury House, which sits at a right angle to Claydon House. There was a fluorescent jacket blinking about halfway up. A security guard. I tried to have a constructive conversation. Him on the 6th floor. Me on the ground. It was ineffective. Clearly bored by manning an empty building he signaled to me he would come down. He shook our hands like we were here on official business, like he'd been expecting us. I asked if he would show us around. He obliged as if it were a common request. During the tour we were told there was one resident left. By chance we met him on the six floor. A lease holder. Smoking a cigarette. Looking out at the bustling roundabout below. He felt our approach and without even turning his head: "No comment" he said. He probably thought we were journalists. Why else would we be in the six floor of a vacated building. Without warning the security guard nipped into a tiny room to flick a switch. A women with an electronic voice bellowed something about an alarm being activated. Startled, I queried the commotion - he deactivated and activated gain to prove he was the instigator. He smiled at me, proud in his responsibility and locked the door with a flick of his wrist. Without a word we began the descent. Another round of hand shakes and he was gone.

Within days I learned of another visit. It took place exactly a year ago to the day click here . Reading this account induced a spectrum of emotions but the final thought crystallised. I was just another moth mesmerized by light radiating from the Heygate bulb.