The woman behind the checkout looked drained as she took my t‑shirts and scanned them at the till. A big fan was blowing hot air around as she worked, compensation for the shop’s broken air‑conditioning system, though not very effective against the heatwave we have been experiencing.

“I’m busted,” she confided.

I was busted too. Everybody is against the never‑ending hot air that is too stifling to sleep in at night and too warm to sit in all day.

I can hear some of you say “catch yourself on” as I am writing this. The weather has been absolutely glorious, it’s true, but we are never happy, are we? Someone out there, somewhere, is praying for rain.

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Still, the heat has brought back memories of sitting on Mickey Marley’s roundabout and enduring chattering teeth in freezing cold paddling pools in the back garden.

Or, if you were in an estate that turned a blind eye, an astray fire hydrant snaking water into the air for children to run through, catching rainbows from the sun’s rays. In my mind, I can still see oiled‑up Turf Lodge women from years ago sitting with their skirts up to their thighs, too hot to natter, but........

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