I wrote that many years ago, gazing out from a high window, west across the wash in north Norfolk. The flat line of grey blue sea rippling with an underwater mirror ball of lights as the sun touched the waves like elegant fingers on ivory keys. I thought perhaps mermaids were dancing in the deep wearing tiny mirrors in their hair.

Late to the party as usual, bursting in with layers of clothing and bags of hastily bought nibbles and booze…. gloriously unkempt and needing the liquid bravery of a glass to hold.