Yesterday I joined Sonya at the home of Mr R, the father of one of Sonya’s life-long friends, for morning coffee. He used to work as a barrister in the House of Lords. I had to leave after about an hour (an hour enlivened by his excellent stories) to run down the road and take some photos of our local Labour MP, Anne Campbell.
Mr R had remarked that he had once had Anne Campbell call in for a cup of tea. I don’t agree with all of Ms Campbell’s views, but, like me, Mr R. expressed his respect and admiration. As Anne got on her bicycle to leave the photo-opportunity I mentioned that I had just been having tea with one of her other constituents. Not only did she recognize Mr R’s name (from her one encounter), but as I was trying to remember in which street I had just left his house, she told me its name—without any hints or prompting.