As a guest, darlings, I’m clearly trouble. Last time I visited lovely Tim, I forgot my handbag and imposed on him financially all weekend, when i had meant to take him and Wink out to lunch. This time, I remembered my bag and it’s got money and cards and everything, but my car is out of action. I persuaded it to hobble along the motorways and get me here, phoning him on the way from a service station to ask him to book it in for me at a garage, but it now transpires that there’s a major fault and I want to check my extended warranty terms before I get it mended.
Taking the view that there’s rarely any need to get worked up about this sort of thing, I’m not changing any of my plans while I’m here. I’m still going to London with Wink tomorrow and we’re still going to see Zig on Friday and have the arranged lunch on Saturday. However, my plan to drive home in the afternoon has had to change and I’m going back by train instead. So poor Lovely Tim will have to entertain me for another night’s stay, so that I have all of Sunday to return home.
Zig has been back in hospital and is in the hospice for a bit, until she’s patched up enough to return home. They found the source of her recent problem, which wasn’t the cancer, which is a relief. It’ll be wonderful to see her again. I live too far away from my friends, clearly, and they all should come and live in Norfolk.