Eating Mongolian chicken in Corbridge ...

I'd seen a worn trombone in The Robin Hood Inn - next to it was a Royal typewriter, its keys tied together in a knot of letters -

The pub sign depicted Richard Green, clasping a long bow - I remembered his pencil moustache - 

I had my first Chinese in Corbridge that evening - I thought I was in Shoreditch - 

Pristine cars were parked outside severe stone cottages - in one shop, I saw a beautiful pale blue shirt - 

Next day, the taxi driver told us Alan Davies lived in the village - 

Cherubs blew trumpets on the gravestones in the churchyard - there was memorial tablet in the church to the quarter master of the Rifle Brigade - 

An honourable man, he looked beyond the grave, and gave every assurance that he was a Christian -

I ate Mongolian Chicken in The Artisan - it was still light when we left the high ceilinged room - 

20.30

July 7 2014

Corbridge