Under The Shard

Up and re-editing Defenders of Guernsey, and a few hours of writing and admin before zooming off to London. Many communications on the train, including being offered a couple of weeks freelance, and a tweet from Jane, who is coming to stay in a couple of weeks, saying 'Just watched video. Change of plan. Will stay in B&B' after seeing my sinister little film Janus. Also spoke to Betty who was having busy day with a showcase and an audition in town.

South Bank to the Poetry Library and various bookshops, the temperature dropping and feeling like I have the beginnings of a cold. Then went to London Bridge station, under the massive Shard spearing up to the sky, and made my way to Borough Market, where I eventually found a restaurant called Roast to meet Aimee. A place with swanky pretensions, a lounge pianist and singer and stiff prices. Sat near the piano, looking out of the window at the closed for the evening market. Had a lovely meeting with her, discussing the business book. She really likes the concept and gave me a useful perspective on its content -- and how this can be used as we drank gin and tonics with slices of grapefruit in them and picked at few items from the bar snacks menu. Then there was a good deal of gossip.

Took some photos of The Shard, which looks amazing close up at night, the top of the building lit up brightly, with Aimee laughing at me for being a tourist. My camera dial was on the wrong setting so none of them worked. Gah. An unhappy month or so working for Architects' Journal in the distant past has left at least one legacy.

Home by direct train from London Bridge. Fish finger sandwich at home and a chat with Lorraine, out again in her busy week. A date for my pre-operation assessment in a couple of weeks, which is excellent news.  Gold sofa, then bed.