It was a long journey to Ireland by sea and coach. My poor Granny H, dressed in her usual uniform of camel, smiled the whole way, but in my heart I knew that she was not enjoying herself – especially since she was dead.

The first stop on our trip was a museum with a beautiful ornate ceiling. The best exhibit was a demonstration of British Rail technology for route planning from the 1970s. Museum visitors gathered around the table to examine square lumps of luminous green jelly. We soon discovered that these were an early form of microfiche. When slotted into the special readers, the jellies revealed all the timetable details needed to plan rail journeys around the UK.

After the museum visit NP, SC and I met in the pub. We sat at the bar on leather stools discussing a paper that SC had prepared on childhood development. A rough-looking young man to the left of me gave the impression of wanting to join in the conversation, but we were not fooled. He was really after the contents of our handbags. Where were TPR and Simon when we needed them? I pushed my handbag well out of this man’s reach and we continued our conversation without him.