And so… let’s look at the kindness of strangers:
There I was, in London with fellow Words for the Wounded granny, crime writer Penny Deacon, heading across the bridge to walk along the South Bank to see the outside of the Tate Modern extension, when we called in at Caffe Nero (Golden Hinde, Bankside)
It was my call, I was cold, needed a caffeine shot, which we had, and very nice it was too.
Then, on we scurried because we then had lunch at The Wellington on the Strand, before hitting the Caravaggio exhibition at the National Gallery.
All went exceedingly well, much like Mr Kipling’s cakes. Penny liked the extension, I didn’t – normal for us, we agree on virtually nothing but somehow we never quite strangle one another.
Then to the Wellington Restaurant upstairs which we do agree on, had a great time with Jose and Erica and tucked into a delicious fish pie (very large).
Then on to the National. I was feeling strangely unburdened as we had our bags searched on entry. Then, holy moley, No, no no, I was without my tote bag, last seen with me at – yep, you’ve got it, right back along the Embankment at Caffe Nero.
Disaster.
The research notes for my new novel for Random House were in it, plus an essential research book, and the bag itself which was precious, given to me by Dr Kathleen Thompson, medical correspondent for Frost Magazine, and author of the award winning From Both Ends of the Stethoscope.
Could it possibly still be there? Surely it was tucked over someone else’s shoulder, and later they would have to lie in a darkened room having tried to decipher my totally illegible handwriting.
I phoned, and – glory be -they had rescued it. It was in the office. Penny went on into the exhibition, I scurried, hurried, legged it back down the Strand, and along theSouth Bank, zipping past people, swerving in and out, all in a lather.
Finally I arrived at the Golden Hinde. ‘Ah yes,’ the young woman said, and off she went to collect it from the office. My notes, my book, my lovely bag… So the next Milly Adams could proceed.
Off I roared, back along the South Bank, then the Strand, then to the National Gallery, and coincidently met Penny in the queue for the loo (where else)
So I reckon that at least some of the calories consumed at the Wellie were walked off, my novel due out in October 2017 was saved, my feet were sore, and I will never walk past a Caffe Nero without feeling grateful.
In addition, the grannies are walking Hadrian’s Wall next year, so I can now say I’ve done some training. Well, I am a fiction writer.
www.wordsforthewounded.co.uk
http://www.millyadams.co.uk
Caffe Nero Golden Hind, 3 Cathedral Street, London SE1 9DE
Phone: 020 7407 7100
http://www.nicholsonspubs.co.uk/restaurants/london/thewellingtonstrandlondon