Kinghorn sunset

And if anybody tries to say "You only get out of Life what you put into it", I may well kill them.

Angus Rose is unwell. His guests have gone, but their muddy footprints and empty bottles remain.

We trek into town, sunroof open, where he queasily disembarks. I meet Megan at Waverley and exchange precious gifts - keys, spectacles, T-shirts.

At Kinghorn, we finish another job application, commit it to the postal service, and walk along the coast. M&S duck for tea, followed by bank statements for afters.