SUMMER’S END

Yesterday I carried Wilson, unconscious, from the Bar up to our room and popped him into bed.

This morning he awoke, staggered over to the window, parted the curtains a couple of inches and peeked cautiously out.

Gazing through the rain-spattered glass, he regarded a scene of wind-lashed trees and huddled pedestrians with umbrellas, in silence.

‘So,’ he said, turning towards me, ‘is that it? Is Summer over now? It’s not even August yet!’

Replying as cheerfully as I could, I said, ’No! Of course not! It’s just more like a traditional English Summer again – you know, Chilly and Damp with Occasional Sunny Periods!’

Anyway, the weather won’t trouble us today. I’ve found the ideal place to take W on a damp day – it’s indoors, and he’ll love it!