My thought processes raced through four distinct stages: (1) Is that a snake curled around my ankle? (2) And that scrap of grey cloth, what’s that? (3) Ugh, dead mouse! (4) Yikes, the mouse is dead because it’s been attacked by the snake. “There’s a snake, a snake!” I screamed, thinking not only of myself, but also of puppy dog H, who was in the next room with JG. She could be killed if subjected to the poisonous venom of this vile, grey reptile. JG peered round the door frame unmoved. TPR, at the other end of the house, couldn’t care less.

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If this was Worcester then why was the shop was filled with tartan tat? The only wares that interested me were the fossils. As I picked up a couple from the top cabinet they fell in a crash to the floor. Fortunately one was a chunky ammonite and the other a quite large curled stone, so neither broke. Then I pointed out the gems to TPR. We had no idea that rubies came in multiple shades.

Out in the street I wanted to show LM the lovely bed and breakfast where we’d stayed all those years ago. It was in a red brick warehouse opposite the canal. We walked around the corner and I could tell that LM was not impressed. Everything looked so run down. We jumped in a cab to return to the others, following TPR in his own car: he was not speaking to me, hence the need for separate vehicles.