Similarly clutching a glass and obsessively hair-twiddling is Jo's mate, Lila. Lila is an outstanding flautist, pianist and genius mathematician and all-round clever-clogs who still can't quite work out how to use steps properly and as a consequence has used crutches for something like half of her life. Lila was quite well oiled last night when she arrived, and very well oiled by the time Nicky and I gave up and went to bed, leaving the younger generation to mumble incoherently at each other.
Ivy is also in the photo (centre), and seems to have just worked out that it's December and just a tad chilly, perhaps a slightly more substantial top might have been in order.
Considering the fact that we had to get up at the usual time this morning, whatever possessed us to stay up talking bollocks with the youngsters until one o'clock this morning? Will we ever learn?