I had hoped that EH would be available for lunch. When I called into her office, however, she said that she was too busy examining a PhD by a Guns N’ Roses band member. It was unclear as to whether the candidate was lead singer Axl Rose, or Frank Ferrer, the drummer. Back in my own office I was pestered by students who, amongst other things, wanted access to a photocopier so that they could make hard copies of an e-book by replicating the pages from their Kindle.
It was our last day at a resort hotel in Fife, and we needed to check out by 10:00. Earlier in the week my school friend JP (now JC) had mentioned that she’d spilt something in the room and had been trying to get rid of the mess using perfumed moisturiser. The hotel staff had now discovered her crime, and when I entered the room they were tutting as they took apart the trouser press. I never learnt the extent of JC’s misdemeanour, but it was clear that we would never be welcome at that hotel chain again, whether in the UK or the Caribbean.
I was the only passenger on a train driven by TPR. I desperately needed to change from one outfit into another but couldn’t get my white T shirt over my head. As soon as the skip was removed from the track ahead, TPR risked taking his hands off the wheel, and helped me remove the offending item of clothing.