Nicholas Lezard

A financially strained columnist recounts being rescued from an evening without money by two readers who visit Brighton from Scotland. He takes them to fish-and-chip shops and pubs, shares stories about meeting famous people including Stephen Fry, and reflects on friendship, loneliness, rejection and the kindness of readers. The evening leaves him feeling that his work and relationships still have value despite his financial difficulties.

A humorous personal column recounts the author’s decision to watch England’s 2026 match against Argentina alone at home, alongside memories of an explosive pub reaction to England’s penalty-shootout defeat by Germany in 1990. The episode challenges the assumption that football violence is limited to disadvantaged supporters, noting that affluent Chelsea patrons—apparently bankers and hedge-fund managers—also participated in drunken destruction of their own German cars. The piece closes with comic pessimism about the remaining summer sporting calendar, winter, Arsenal and the author’s missing fridge.

The columnist explains why Wimbledon is his favourite sporting spectacle, praising the artistry and drama of elite tennis, its traditions, and the accessibility of free BBC coverage. Personal memories of playing tennis and cricket, including his limited ability and declining fitness, lead him to conclude that watching sport on television is now his preferred way to enjoy it. He also reflects humorously on shifting allegiances during matches, including contests involving Arthur Fery, Flavio Cobolli and Novak Djokovic.

A personal recollection of a family visit to London leads the writer to revisit memories of Soho, the Noble Rot restaurant and the Coach and Horses pub, including old friendships, romantic encounters and the pub’s cultural history. Asked whether he would move back to London, he concludes that his hesitation reflects a genuine loss of identification with the city. Despite affection for particular people and places, he prefers remaining in Brighton, where he enjoys the seaside, reading and a slower pace of life.

A humorous personal essay about enduring extreme heat in Brighton and Hove while spending most of the day naked and inactive. The writer recounts the embarrassment of being seen naked by a scaffolding worker who is also a downstairs neighbour, complains about traffic noise and fumes redirected by Brighton & Hove City Council, and imagines increasingly elaborate literary and colonial-era fantasies to escape the heat. The piece ends by wishing for a nearby, freely accessible body of cold water.

Nicholas Lezard recounts attending an anti-racism counter-demonstration in Brighton opposing a march by the anti-immigration group South East Patriots, partly hoping to be recognised by fellow participants. The event recalls his earlier activism but does not provide the validation he anticipated. He then describes his anxiety over an inspection of smoke and carbon-monoxide detectors in his cluttered flat, which prompts an exhausting cleaning effort. The experience leads him to humorously suggest that tidying can both result from and alleviate depression, while acknowledging that his condition may have been a situational reaction rather than clinical depression.

After a failed attempt to defrost an icebound freezer causes the flat’s electrics to fail, the narrator is left living without a functioning fridge. They adapt by relying on cold weather, cured meats, Mediterranean-style food, and careful consumption, while avoiding the rotting contents and fruit flies accumulating inside the appliance. The broken fridge, depression and reluctance to tidy or socialise become symbols of domestic inertia, though walks in Brighton and encounters with strangers provide some relief.

A columnist attends the graduation of a friend who has become a Metropolitan Police detective constable at Hendon Police College during an exceptionally hot day. The ceremony, historic police vehicles and formal traditions prompt memories of the columnist’s 1982 arrest for LSD possession, but the event also highlights changes within the Met, including its multicultural character and more accepting attitude toward gay officers. The writer leaves impressed, amused and unexpectedly hopeful about the force.

The writer describes the unexpectedly powerful happiness caused by Arsenal winning the Premier League for the first time in 22 years. Though not a committed football expert, the writer reflects on a lifelong attachment to Arsenal, which began after a childhood intimidation and was reinforced by the club's historic successes. The piece explores how football connects people to earlier versions of themselves, friendships and personal memory, while contrasting the game's tactical complexity with the emotional simplicity of supporting a team.

A humorous personal column describes the writer’s growing attachment to a stray or visiting cat in Hove. After luring it indoors with smoked salmon, dried shrimp and Waitrose bresaola, the writer lets it explore the flat and buys Dreamies when the cat asks to be let out. The cat has not returned, leaving the writer anxiously wondering about its fate and comparing the experience to being in love.

A personal and humorous column recounts the writer’s long friendship with a member of Black Box Recorder. After learning that Billie Eilish considers the band a favourite, the writer describes how her endorsement helped prompt the group to reform for live performances, including a London Palladium show. He then tells how he invited his friend to Lord’s in the hope of securing concert tickets, while becoming anxious when another spectator began reading his New Statesman column. The piece ends by promising a future story about the writer’s fridge.

A humorous personal column recounts the writer’s awkward meeting with a fan who had read their Wikipedia page and assumed they were an aristocratic, wealthy figure. The writer objects that the page exaggerates their father’s privileged family background while omitting their mother’s impoverished upbringing in Philadelphia and Atlantic City, her training at Juilliard and later Broadway career, and the writer’s own dislike of private school. The piece reflects on how online biographies can flatten or distort personal identity, while also promoting the writer’s books and describing everyday life in Brighton.

A humorous personal column recounts the author’s financial strain, including a £350 debt, delayed payments from publications and an unchanged NatWest overdraft limit. Domestic problems such as a broken fridge, scaffolding, an inadequate vacuum cleaner and a malfunctioning laptop compound the author’s low mood. Plans for co-author K— to stay in Brighton are ultimately abandoned because of a family birthday party, while the author keeps the subject of their books secret.

A personal reflection on regeneration and recovery considers the writer’s remission from Crohn’s colitis and respiratory illness, his elderly mother’s fall, and a friend’s recovery from heart surgery. Unexpectedly closed utility-debt accounts provide financial relief, which the writer spends on personal pleasures including a meal in Brighton and a Ukraine-support T-shirt. The essay concludes by contrasting these moments of healing and happiness with fresh bad news and renewed demands for payment, urging readers to enjoy life while they can.