In the car park the temperature had registered eighty-six degrees

Lunchtime I went to Rico’s, the café more crowded than I have ever known it, almost every table occupied. In the car park the temperature had registered eighty-six degrees. Long queue at the counter with at the head of the queue a deaf-blind man, head lolled to one side, and his translator (spelling everything out to him, Helen-Keller-like, in symbols traced on his hand – there were also three people in wheelchairs sat at the outside tables so possibly Rico’s is marketing itself as somewhere that welcomes people with disabilities).

Ham, cheese and tomato ciabatta, lemon frangipani slice, and (in a daring innovation to my usual pedestrian routine) a Mocha coffee instead of the usual filter.

Outside in the shopping mall the continuous frieze of consumers flowed backwards and forwards. The café is not in a wealthy area, and I noticed that many of the women in their thirties and forties (mature beauties with subtle fake tans) were wearing gypsy-style skirts that were in fashion two summers ago. The café sound system was playing Dusty Springfield (whose music is enjoying a revival currently and is used in a Cadburys TV commercial featuring a Wayne Rooney lookalike – another “look” of the moment – although it’s not clear why the commercial uses the Dusty Springfield version of Take A Little Piece Of My Heart instead of the more famous Erma Franklin release).