Ailsa to leave Monday for England to see her sister, whose condition may be terminal. By the time she gets back we will be gone, so A organises a meal at the kabob place oround the corner from Smart. We've been before, with Jane and Bill, but only at lunch. Very nice. Good food and, unusually for a Cypriot restaurant, it's possible to hear well enough to carry on a conversation. Usually the volume of talk at other tables precludes normal conversation.
To our place for coffee after, or nearly so. We all get in the lift and it makes a buzzing sound and dies. Notice on wall says maximum 6 people, 475 kg. Mental maths follow. We're definitely under even if, as J says, we weigh more than we did two hours earlier. But the elevator is unimpressed by mathematics and we're forced to confess to Kiki, who calls a repairman. Jane unable to walk up four and a half flights, so Ailsa, J and I go and make coffee, and take it downstairs, along with glasses, mints and liqueurs. Kiki has kindly asked us to make ourselves at home in the lounge - probably depriving her of her regular evening television - so we end up with coffee in much pleasanter surroundings than our flat.
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