In the next hour I’m off to terminal 3 to meet the boys. I’m all over the place with emotion .The requested curry is made ,the Leff/Cobra is in the fridge and the washing machine has broken down – well they can’t have everything – a curry and clean lycra.
Last night I went up to town .I met a friend who is newly single , so I took her for pre-tapas drinkies at ”Time Outs best place for 30 plus somethings to get chatted up.”- the Tate Members Bar . It was beautiful , we drank fizz , gazed over at the wibbly wobbly bridge leading to St. Paul’s Cathedral ( Rosie’s favourite view in London ), cried, laughed , hugged, held hands .The only male who came within a ten mile radius of us was the 20 yr old gay ,drama student waiter.He was very sweet , but not who I had in mind for my 52 yr old straight friend. We managed to avoid the Gauguin and weren’t allowed to walk on/touch/sniff/rustle/pour/throw/ Ai Weiwei’s millions of porcelain pods.( though God only knows why he didn’t just use Sunflower seeds ), so that too was a sensory let-down. Food, drink and company were excellent though.