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Or not unknown exactly, just top secret.

Arrived safely in a lovely hotel at a confidential seaside location. Sand, sea, a bracing breeze.

It appears that many English high streets really are the same these days. It’s a shame.

Nevertheless, it’s a nice place. I have a great affection for the English seaside. There is nowhere else quite like it, yet all English seaside towns have the same shabby comforting atmosphere, from Berwick to Brighton.

We are booked into the hotel restaurant for dinner tonight – the in-laws are here too. Whenever I dine at a hotel I feel as though I’m about fourteen years old and pretending to be grown-up. I also make a habit of looking at neighbouring groups of people and speculating about which of them is the secret agent.

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