Friday, June 16, 2017
An early Thursday morning walk with Bob before heading off to the airport. For forty five minutes the important things in a French village take priority - the donkeys, the new calves in the field by the stream and a gaggle of ducklings that have made the village pond their home. Angus changes into a suit . Bob and Sophie know that the black shoes are a sign of a wandering flock. They segue into their glum routine.
London warm and muggy. Everywhere the topic of conversation the fire that was still raging in a tower block in the West of the city. The Prime Minister goes to the scene but doesn't meet any of the residents or families. An omission of empathy that London's highly opinionated cab drivers are quick to pick up on.
The art in the dentists waiting room presumably chosen by a committee. Angus is told, as he has been told on every trip to the hygienist over the last forty years, to floss better.
Angus meets with men in dark suits in one of those grand Georgian town houses that have managed to survive redvelopment.
The view from the bedroom window of his hotel this morning does little to inspire wonder.