Where’s Theresa May?
Friday. Scorchio! once more. The hot weather is back again, and the fans are dialled up to eleven. My long supervising shift at work was sweltering, in the little triage room at the top of the building, but there was enough moaning about the weather to keep my jaded British soul content. Time passed quickly, and soon enough, the weekend had arrived. Gubs is spending the day in Geneva — tomorrow his coach will start the long drive back to France, and he’s due to get home on Sunday afternoon.
