And relax…

We set off for Heathrow to drop off the other bag (previous day). V drove.  It was extremely wet and the whole of the lane was flooded with water which was gushing into the field alongside the house. Before we left V tweaked the sandbags and we hoped for the best.  

Virgin had been sending me clutches of pro-forma texts with the occasional person saying they were ‘trying to locate my bag’ and asking ‘what was in it?’ I kept asking if the person who had mine had been in touch.  But that got no direct response. 

Suddenly as we approached Heathrow I remembered that my house keys were in the bag and that they had a  ‘tile’ attached.  I’d only ever used it to beep them in the house via my phone but they were geo located so we quickly found out they were in Notting Hill. A swift google showed an address on a street with a couple of hotels in it. I’d already found from Facebook that the bag owner looked to be from LA rather than a UK based so I started ringing them.  One very engaged man who answered said he couldn’t confirm but asked what it was about and when I started explaining got very animated and said he’d ‘give her my number’. She quickly rang back and we swept past Heathrow and headed into Town. 

I didn’t meet her at the hotel as she’d had to head out but she left my bag with my friend on reception.  Apparently she’d tried Facebook and Instagram but I have to travel under Katharine not Kate so I don’t show up.  A good end but by the time we got back home through heavy traffic it had used up half the day. 

So we went to the local lovely barn sale, bought a pair of brass Arts and Craft candlesticks - something I’d been wanting for ages.  The place was decked out in Harvest glory with a strong scent of apples. 

And then home for tea.