Neither of us slept much the night before. I was busy imagining every possible catastrophe. Nigel had a strange dream in which he got so confused he had to be admitted to the village care home. His friend Greg came to visit him, but Nigel thought Greg was Gandhi. Because Gandhi is dead Nigel became convinced that HE was dead……..you know how nightmares go….
It was a relief for both of us when it was 6.30 and we could get up and get on with the day; off to Bradford for switch on. Continue reading