Across the corridor I heard ECM squeal when she took delivery of her graduation gown and hood. The latter was most unusual, taking the form of an air force blue silk padded bomber jacket. ECM would look quite the star when she picked up her PhD later that morning.
Meanwhile I pulled two big white envelopes out of the pocket of my heavy brown winter coat. I couldn’t remember how long it was since the day that the postman had handed them over to me. Whenever that was, it was now clearly high time I took a look at their contents. In fact, the envelopes themselves were more interesting than what was to be found inside them. Although each displayed my name, neither gave my address. Somehow the Post Office had pieced together the scribbled random clues, such as “bake a cake” and “1p 1p 1p”, to work out that these missives were, in fact, destined for me.