November 7th, 1990

November 7th, 1990

At home, England

Finally calling it a night after copious amounts of fun with Lorna, who is still talking, from the guest room next door!

“I love these pillows, where’d you get them?”
“John Lewis in the city centre.”

“Very fancy schmansy. I might need to get some.”

“You can’t take pillows home to Holland!”

“Aye I can, I’ll use my cargo allowance.”

“You’re too much! Have a good sleep.”

“Night night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite. If they do, squeeze them tight and they won’t come back the morra night.”

“Aw, my dad used to say that to me every night.”

“So did mine,” she said. “Your mum and dad are two wee gems, it was lovely seeing them earlier. What a laugh they are.”

“Yeah, they’re the best.”

“You’re a lucky lassie.”

“As are you,” I said.

“Sleep well, oh and one more thing.”


“I’ll expect tea and toast in bed at eight,” she chuckled. “And I prefer my strawberry jam in a wee separate pot.”

“Aye right,” I said, mimicking her.

“Aye right yerself,” she laughed. “Night honey bunny. Thanks for having me!”

“You’re welcome. Night.”


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