The notebook records that this were the first time I'd had cause to go to Batley, which reads oddly now, but the register takes you where it takes you. Wilton Park, on the steps near the boating lake. Left shoe, black lace-up, a man's. Polished once, not lately — that's the notebook's phrase and I'd stand by it, because a shoe holds the memory of a polish long after the shine's gone.
Laces present, untied. Overcast. No photograph is mentioned. What took me to Batley in the first place I couldn't tell you now — I don't believe it were a tip-off, because I'd have noted that after the Barry business earlier that month. Happen I just fancied somewhere different. Either way it were a proper shoe, properly recorded, and Batley's been in the register ever since.
Written up August 2026, from the notebook.