Belle and I were having tremendous fun charging up and down the steps of the British Library like a couple of teenage scallywags – until I remembered that I was due at a meeting. I abandoned our game to jump into the lift and travel to the Hilton Hotel on the 110th floor.

Later I sat in the back row of the theatre to watch a performance of the Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppet Theatre. Kev F Sutherland had changed the routine to improv, taking suggestions for material from the audience.

=====

As soon as I saw the monstrous red vehicle through the frosted pane of our front door I deeply regretted reporting the dream that someone had bought me a London double decker bus. This didn’t mean I actually wanted to own one. Little light made its way into our flat at the best of times and this would only make things worse. And how on earth had they managed to carry the bus down the steps?