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So, we’re drivin’, tunes blastin’, and she’s tellin’ me ‘bout her gig. Says she’s got regulars who tip in gold – bloody hell, that’s posh! I’m like, “Groovy, baby! You’re livin’ shiny!” She laughs, says, “I am the scales of justice!” – reckon she’s seen *Fury Road* too, what a gal! Made me happy as a pig in mud, hearin’ that.

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Finally, I get my scone. It’s warm and buttery, and I’m feeling a bit better. But then, I spill half of it on my shirt. Great. Just great. Now I look like I’ve been attacked by a pastry. I’m trying to wipe it off, but it’s like the scone is mocking me. “Ha! You thought today would be easy?”

Schoolchildren and veterans co-author book of memories for VE Day