IT’S THAT time of year again. You know: rosé time. Hang on, all year round is rosé time these days. I should know. We get through enough of it in our house, even when I’m not at home. Mrs Ray is like that. Once she starts, she can’t stop. And when she gets her friends round, well, it’s carnage. Majestic has been known to deliver three days running just to keep up, and the neighbours cajoled into lending us their recycling bin for the empties.
There was a in Provence or on a rainy November Saturday in Croydon as you tried somehow to conjure those sunbaked, sand-strewn days back to life.
