Pimms o’clock

As the day wore on, many of us felt light-headed from little food and much wine and the strangeness of irresponsibility. There was a good deal of weeping, crazy laughter, shouting, quarrelling.

An unconference day at Wallacespace in Spitalfields. The sun is blazing outside, but our floor is pale blue - cool and aquatic. Lunch is upstairs. There’s a terrace where a pale Brit could burn in minutes.

When it’s over, it’s over. There’s jug after jug of Pimms up on the terrace. People bleed off into the weekend. The Heathrow Express is delayed, but not enough to disrupt my journey.

We land at Glasgow early, the bus takes me to the car park, and the car gets me home. Unusually, Claire and Angus are there - asleep in bed.