It started binning it down at lunchtime. I knew I had to be out of the office when pizza and champagne was served.
I dashed over to the station, but realised that I did not fancy a walk down Victoria Street. I had my brolly with me but did not fancy battling the umbrella-wielding wave of civil servants. Just to buy a sandwich and return to my desk would take barely quarter of an hour. So I went to WH Smith - not exactly the best record shop, even on Victoria Station. Ouch, I spent far too much money. I bought:
When I got them home, I looked in horror...I don't like Jazz...
But on first hearing - thus far, incomplete - I would definitely recommend Divas of Jazz. As long as you like a tune, and a bit of mood, don't let that ghastly word, Jazz, put you off.
Or am I getting middle-aged?
