8.40pm on Good Friday. I have so many bunches of flowers I feel I am present at my own funeral.
The truth is we pre-recorded today’s show, and now I realise why.
After five and a half years, 5,942 recipes, a stable of exhaustingly generous chefs and a team of undyingly committed GoodFoodLifers, it would’ve been impossible to do it live.
The tears started on Wednesday when I recieved a bottle of Champagne and a card written by our Polish caff-ertiers. When they first started serving up breakfast not one of them had a word of English. Now they can argue with you, in perfect Blighty, about how much you owe on your tab. I cried as one immigrant to another.
When the wreaths started arriving, I was minus mascara. After make-up, fully painted, lashes as long as you like, and yet more flowers, I was still minus makeup. Poor old Carolyte had to be on hand with her makeup bag and a few well chosen shovels and trowels to reapply the camouflage – the old face needed re-landscaping every few minutes.