Twenty-Four lengths of the pool indicates that L's health may be up-swinging a
touch.
I drive to work to save some coughing in reserve for squash and fortify
myself with a pub lunch as a precaution.
L is too ill to accompany us to the game, let alone run
there. A long rally on the fifth point of the first game leaves me
lying on the floor gasping and coughing. As I suspected, I’ve perhaps not
totally recovered myself just yet. I hang on to consciousness long enough to win
one game.
(Thursday 9th April)
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