This is an account of Bek’s work leaving drinks yesterday, from my perspective.

9am: we’re on our way to work, Bek says:

I’ll probably be home by 6; I don’t think much is going to happen.

4:30pm: phone call to say:

I’ve just gone to the pub. It’s pretty quiet, I don’t think I’ll be long.

6:43pm: text to say:

Still in pub have a bottle of wine in front of me…

8:48pm: text to say:

trying to finish my wine

10:40pm: phone call to say:

Twickenham Station is closed, I’ve had to get a cab. At least, I think it was closed, all the doors were shut and I couldn’t get in. But I could see trains still on the boards.

11:12pm: phone call to say:

Do you have any cash at home? The taxi’s reached Camden and it’s £52 so far

11:24pm: text to say:

Jasmine tea and oven chips [the ‘please’ was implied here, I’m sure].

Bless. I do love her.