Sunday afternoon, post lunch, snooze time! Except the sun was shinning and Mrs BW was restless. She wanted to go out, for a stroll around town. The fledglings were observing an uneasy truce cemented by jointly watching the “Matrix”. They flinched at the word walk.
“Shall we pop out for an hour or two?” “Anywhere in particular?” I asked tentatively. “Well we could pop into M&S and see about getting you a new pair of trousers”. My heart sank. I used the – but it would be better to wait till the summer when I have lost a few pounds – gambit. It worked. “Okay maybe a coffee in Caffe Nero. I think it will be okay to leave the young ones at home for an hour or two. They seem quiet enough.” The fledglings unflinched .
Thirty minutes later we were seated in the “Slopes” Just Mrs BW and me. I had a beer and she a G and T. She put the Observer review section down for a moment. “When was the last time we did this? You know just pop out for a drink on our own?” I shrugged. I hadn’t got a clue. Too long though. The bar man at the Slopes decided that Mrs BW and I did not warrant him staying open. We moved onto the Old Clubhouse. The beer was good, but the cigarette smoke hung in thick clouds. We did not hang around.
We strolled back, past brave hardy souls sitting out side in the weak spring sun determined to prove that Buxton too has its pavement café society. All was well at home. The fragile truce had held, Star Wars had replaced the Matrix. Perhaps we can do it again, someday.