The Sunday event started at 10am again, and when we met Mark, we exchanged our news about the house. He’d sent an email to the owner noting that one room hadn’t been cleaned, and this seemed to have set off last night’s diatribe. She had apparently gone home and written an email response to Mark which occupied no less than 6 pages when printed out. It was a strange, rambling document which accused us of having eaten toast for breakfast among other things. Most of it was entirely irrelevant, and poor Mark, who was having to commute huge distances to and from home each day, had had to deal with all this on top of everything else. He decided not to respond and simply pay the bill and not to make any more trouble.
By this time Buddy had pretty much taken over the show; interest in 1264 was largely subsumed by people wanting to give him a stroke or a cuddle. Buddy took all this in his stride and accepted it as his due.
It was another completely exhausting but rewarding day, and everyone who saw us loved the story of 1264, even if they had no prior interest in WWI aviation.