I ended up going to the party. As I’ve mentioned, it was a James Bond theme. I didn’t have time to organise and outfit so I went as myself.
‘It’s Oddjob!’ chorused the assembled guests as I walked into the venue.
I glanced behind me. No-one.
Unperturbed, I carried onto to the bar and ordered a drink. It was free after all (come on, why else would I be there?).
It didn’t take long before I was renewing some old acquaintances and even making some new ones. I got on like a house on fire with Dr No – although I still haven’t worked out if I knew him. Or her, come to think of it.
I had been hoping to meet Pussy Galore but by 8pm I was gone – because I had to meet the Chief Psychiatrist who was picking me up.
As promised, he was there at the time and place he said he would be. By 930pm I was back at The Priory and by 10pm I was in bed with a nice cup of tea – with milk, two sugars, nicely stirred.
I must be getting old.
