It seemed only right, not to mention convenient, that we should conduct the reunion in the FACT cafe. Even on a dull Sunday it's got what they call a good 'vibe', all laptops and big wodges of cake, so I hate to reveal that it is really Not Much Cop. Service is excruciating – our fella avoided eye contact until he'd finished fiddling about with his trolley, gave me the wrong drink, forgot to charge Carmel for hers and generally made me ashamed to be British.
My sausage and chutney sandwich (I always go for the classy option) also contained thick slices of cheese and, even more of a surprise, a small chunk of chargrilled chicken which tumbled unbidden from the bready depths. We didn't risk coffee – after Carmel's three years in a city where it's a matter of considerable pride, ordering a cup in a food operation where pride is scant is really not wise. Nice films, shame about the caff.
And while we're talking FACTs, let me share this: according to OK!, not only does England cricketer James Anderson live in an 'exquisite home' in Hale, Cheshire, but Freddie Flintoff lives round the corner. I'd like to know their chosen venue when, as James informs us, they meet up and go for dinner. Surely not Piccolino?