David Walliams was in the news the other week for having completed a gruelling (and frankly, disgusting) eight-day swim of the length of the River Thames.

I saw him once. I was sitting at a bus stop on Oxford Street. It was the first time I’d ever been to London, and I hadn’t really timed it well. It was February, dark, and everyone was miserable. And I didn’t have any money. I’d decided to get the bus back to my friend’s house away out in East Ham (I say house – try room that fitted a bed and a wardrobe and barely room to stand between the two), so I could view some sights on the way instead of whizzing along oblivious on the Underground. This turned out to be fairly fruitless as it was a cold, damp, winter evening and the windows were all steamed up on the stuffed-to-capacity red London bus.

But as I’d waited at the bus stop earlier, a black cab rolled past, slowly, caught in the mash of Oxford Street traffic. There was a passenger looking out the back window – a big man with a big face who looked right at me. I held his gaze and we exchanged a long, suspicious look. The cab rolled on and I realised I recognised him – David Walliams had been the man with whom I’d exchanged strange looks…

  1. WordsFallFromMyEyes said:

    Hi there, I was just curious about you. I saw your comment on Tale of My Heart’s blog – the one about the Veena lady I had never heard of. Was just wondering about your page, who you are. Had a look around – good stuff. Cheers 🙂 Noeleen

    • Hey, thanks, I haven’t written anything this last couple of months but looking forward to having time and getting back to it in the new year 🙂

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