There was a bit of a postscript to last week's escapades. After you lot had waddled off to the train station and I had listened to a few of Sister Carol's modelling stories, the weather had become bit biblical by the time I was on my way home.
Mrs Shred was talking to someone the next day who told her that they had driven back on to Mersea just before midnight and had seen a lone cyclist battling through the wind and rain. They had assumed there was some complicated crisis unfolding that involved a lack of car/mobile phone and some sort of dire emergency. She said they had even thought about stopping to offer assistance. "Oh no," said Mrs Shred, "that was just Ted coming back from the pub a bit earlier than usual".
