Timekeeping isn’t one of my strong points but I actually arrived outside the Lanesborough Hotel with plenty of time to spare the other day (for reasons, see my previous post). That made me very pleased with myself because my friend Steven always gets everywhere ridiculously early, and somehow makes me feel guilty when I arrive on time (well, ok, usually a few minutes late).
So anyway, I enjoyed ten minutes of feeling smug and watching the doormen of the Lanesborough in their grey bowler hats helping guests to unload Harrods bags from their giant convertibles. Then I took a pic of the pots outside, mostly because the green umbrellas matched them perfectly.
By this time I was very chuffed because for the first time ever, Steven was LATE. And then I got a text from him, saying that he was outside the Lanesborough Hotel*. It turns out there were two exits from the tube and he’d been there all along.
*We weren’t actually going to the Lanesborough Hotel, in case you think I’m impossibly rich and swanky. Or having an illicit affair with a man called Steven.