Putting the iced prosecco behind us, we made our way through Soho, our spirits gradually revived by Edith and Lou’s banter and earnest enthusiasm for our mad quest. Was there a decent Bellini in Londinium? Did we always have to pay top dollar, or in this case pound, for the sake of a few salacious bubbles and a brief whiff of summer? Would the barman at the Connaught be fired? Time and a few more drinks would only tell.
