Join me for a drive, won’t you? We’re going to Eastcote, in North West London, where my friend Matthew lives. Or lived. The year this drive takes place in is probably 1978, and I’m guessing Matthew has moved on since then. I remember this particular drive, because my mum told my brother and I that … Continue reading Death
It’s going to be a hot weekend. To be specific, it’s going to be properly scorchio. Which means gridlock on the roads, cheek by jowl sunbathing on the beaches and crammed trains. Roll on autumn. The virus continues to dominate the news, of course. One particular line of thought keeps popping into my head. That is, … Continue reading Scorchio
The Mexile 