Donna...
After a humdrum sort of Tuesday (that day after the Bank Holiday weekend when you really wish that you'd booked the Tuesday off too) it was lovely to hear from my best friend Mrs S. 'Come to the pub', she said. 'Your husband's had a rotten day', she said. 'It's a lovely evening', she said 'He's on his way to collect you', she said. ...and then the final dagger to the heart....'You're driving him home'. Well, I couldn't say no could I? Not that I would have anyway, as any time spent with Mrs S is wonderful, but I was slightly concerned about the chicken and potatoes which I had prepared for a sneaky Tuesday roast. Now I know how these kind of impromptu evenings can go, so I decided that I wouldn't throw the chicken in the oven, and assume we would be back in an hour. Sensible decision as it happened. Two hours later, we were still sitting outside the pub. The husband was on this third pint (he'll reg