You won't believe this, and why should you; I can scarcely believe it myself. I'M STILL HERE!!! Over five months have passed since I first went to the Embassy to apply for my three year volunteer's visa, and I am still waiting to receive it. It's not that I'm losing the will to continue the fight for it, never that; but I am so weary of it all; and appalled that my life, my happiness, everything that I hold most dear is in the hands of a total stranger who has no idea that my heart is breaking on a daily basis. If I continue down this path, I run the risk of becoming very tearful indeed, and as that is something I wish to avoid, I shall divert myself, and you, by telling you about the most wonderful friend I have made since being in London.

One sunny afternoon in June, I was sitting in the garden with Vick, drinking wine, and smelling the glorious scent of some roses climbing the wall beside me. Something made me turn around, and as I did so, I saw her. The most beautiful black cat, with huge eyes of sea green was looking directly at me as she scaled the far wall at the end of the garden. Having only just received the news that I had been turned down by the SA embassy, I was in a rather fragile state emotionally, and having a black cat cross my path, I took to be a sign from the spirit world that I had absolutely nothing to worry about. I found this to be an enormous comfort. 'Lucky!' I called to her, She held my gaze, jumped down from the wall with endearing elegance, and rubbed herself against my legs, her back arched with pleasure. I reached down to stroke her and realized that I was already falling under the spell of this bewitching creature. As were Vicki, and Oscar and Izi who had recently joined us. She stayed with us for some time, allowing each of us to administer to her in turn, purring her appreciation; and then, as suddenly as she had appeared she left, disappearing into the dark richness of the ivy that led into secret worlds, known only to her. She kept returning over a period of several weeks, and even though we'd discovered by this time that she had a home; apparently she wasn't living there. She had been found in a garage with her kittens, rescued, and adopted by a couple who adored her. But... they had also adopted her son, and Bella - for that is the name they had given her, and it suits her very well - was at the age when she recognized her son needed to learn independence in the harsh world of feline, and indeed, human, reality; so she made the decision to look for a new gaff, leaving him to fend for hmself. The day I went into my bedroom and found her lying on my bed, I understood she had made her choice! Apart from occasional forays into the outside world she spends all her time in my bedroom, and as I spend a lot of time in there myself, we have come to know each other with a certain degree of intimacy. She lies on a white duvet cover which provides the perfect contrast to the shiny, coal blue blackness of her fur. Actually, the best background would be white velvet - can you imagine how sensual that would look?! That's the romantic aspect of living with Bella; the fact that she brings in half the garden with her which she then deposits along with copious amounts of black fur on my white bed linen is a small price to pay.

She sleeps on the pillow next to me, and we spend quite a lot of time just looking at each other. She is exquisitely beautiful; just looking at her is deeply satisfying; comforting and consoling. As you know, I'm convinced that animals in general, and - in my experience - cats and monkeys in particular, are our bridge to the spirit world. I'm extremely thankful that she arrived in my life at this particular time, but not at all surprised.

So... in order to survive, I have decided to concentrate all my energies on the play. We go into rehearsals at the start of January, but since I'm still here, Matthew suggested that we do some work together before the main rehearsals begin. If I continue to long for Africa with every fibre of my being on a daily basis, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week which is what I have been doing for the past five and a half months - how much longer will this situation continue? - I cannot hope to maintain my sanity for a great deal longer: I must find another outlet for this fierce, consuming passion for my beloved Africa. I have to accept the reality of my situation, but if truth be told, I cannot find it acceptable. And I know I have to if I am to survive. I think I'm between a rock and a hard place...

xxx