While the warmly wrapped figure in black and turquoise was atonaly hoovering the upper corridor , Yves, Ross and the morose lad in the blue bib overalls arrived to start work on the decking in the garden. Ross informed me that the methadone for his bad neck was working well . Somewhere along the line he seems to have got confused between methadone and morphine - even in the local health system here in deepest France profonde methadone would be an unusual treatment for lumbar pain. Some things are best left unchallenged. I asked Yves why they were starting work on the decking when the library was only 7/8ths finished . This simple question got an 'oh la la' in reply , a sure sign that he had been caught out. 'Oh M'Ongoose I wait for the paint to dry'. After twenty minutes they all disappeared announcing as they left that they were going into Agen to get a special cutting blade . That was the last that we saw of them.
The concert is now only three weeks away. The posters are still lying very visibly on the mayors desk in the town hall. A meeting to remind everyone of what their agreed responsibilities are seems to be in order. The first whiff of looming disaster ?
Wilf continues to make progress. Swing biffing and rug surfing have returned to being central parts of the daily routine. 'The font' is back off to London this morning for two days so it's dawning on him that culinary standards are about to take a major turn for the worse.