Sunday, the day of rest. Except of course, the neurotic gardening doctor can’t resist swabbing the non existent floors. Still, given his tardy entrance to the day, the other doctor and I merely chuckle and return our attention to Amitabh’s outrageously screaming ensemble in Don and blush at Helen’s overt seduction of the hapless Vijay. A delicious pub lunch later, we retire for a bonus run on the starship Enterprise and more lounging around, pnpc, Simon Cowell, Raj and Simran and music galore in the Den.

All too soon, it’s time to gather my few possessions, and as always, I leave with goodies, this time an obscenely massive courgette (Vinod’s suggestions shall remain just that!) and a bonus take away of a funky orange tin that once held some allegedly exotic ginger and chilli biscuits procured as a visiting windfall from Fortnum and Masons. I have no clue what I’ll do with it, but it really is such a gorgeous tin! Maybe a few strands of spaghetti..

Thankfully, this time, the train is there and on time, and after a romantic farewell, I tuck myself into my seat and in less than five minutes, feeling like Simran leaving her Raj as the clouds catch the edge of the sun, the rumbling of the train a poignant counterpoint to the evocative strains of Paya Maine echoing in my ears.....