Surprising Pat

Another scorcher today, and the night before had been muggy and still. I had a particularly bad night's sleep again, full of nightmares. Lorraine, Beth and I set off early, walking down to Preston Park. From here we trained up to London to ambush Pat and Maureen at St Pancras. They were travelling to Dawlish in Devon and we all jumped into a taxi and went to Paddington station. The reason for the ambush was that it was Pat's 84th birthday, and also was the day before Pat and Maureen's sixtieth wedding anniversary. They had a message from the Queen they were going to open on the 31st in Dawlish.

We found our way to The Dickens Tavern, known as London's longest pub. It was fairly empty because we got in before twelve, and had coffee and soda and lime, Maureen and Pat had a small drink. The Spanish (I think) barmaid, who only had us to look after was very kind, and we had a meal there too, and the barmaid and her manager came out with a piece of cake with a candle in it. A cheery thing to do, and then we found their westbound train, and Beth, Lorraine and I waved them off from the platform.

Then back to Brighton, Lorraine had to start doing work for the school, Beth went to John's flat, and I cooked for Lorraine and I, after chatting with Mum on FaceTime.

Then a peaceful night in on the gold sofa, (for the first time in a good while).  Ah. Lovely stuff.

Below Pat, Maureen, Beth and Lorraine.