My various ailments subsided, Hubby wasn't working and the day was drizzled with possibilities. The drizzle ensured that Cheltenham would be emptier than normal and that brought with it the tantalising chance of a parking space near the festival. Food was needed; Cheltenham was equipped with both supermarkets and a bookery festival. We took a chance.
The space was perfect - right next to the action. The timing was less perfect - or so it seemed at first. Events were afoot and the cultural norms of the country dictated that we should not merely barge in and demand to be entertained by bookists so we strolled around the book tent.
Hubby found a book by an author he had yet to read but about whom his brother raves. It was not an expensive book and Mum had given me £20 for the festival so I offered to buy it. In fact, there were sufficient funds to buy the first and last in the series. He was happy to trawl library shelves for the others. At the counter, we were told that the author was giving a talk and would be signing copies afterwards. In fact, she said, he would be signing copies in around ten minutes! The signing table was clear of all but a book on a stand, and queue was there none. We queued. Within a few minutes, genius entered the room and Hubby got to chat with the author before even reading his book. A signed book for now - and one for Christmas - and a happy husband. Drizzly days rock!