Free There's Something I've Been Dying to Tell You by Lynda Bellingham Page A

that and then for the Friday night, they suggested a B&B up the road to which they often referred their customers when they were busy. Having spent years of my early life in the theatre in B&Bs I was not overly keen but was persuaded to give it a try. Well it was like no other B&B I had ever been in. I guess I should have realised we were in the vicinity of Chichester as opposed to Blackpool. No offence Blackpool, but you offer a different kind of old world charm. This house on the water’s edge was absolutely beautiful and Phillipa, our landlady, was so charming, and even offered to drive us to The Richmond Arms because we had booked a table for dinner there assuming the B&B might be a bit lacking. How wrong can you be? We had a lovely room with our own bathroom, and breakfast was a dream of fresh fruit and croissants and wonderful coffee all served in the garden in beautiful July sunshine. It was perfect.
    Our dinner at The Richmond Arms was also wonderful. Situated in a tiny village with a pond, a pub, a fantastic village green and not much else, it was extraordinary to think how far people obviously travelled to partake of this amazing restaurant’s food and drink. Albert told us he thought it was deserving of a Michelin star and we couldn’t have agreed more. Outside they had an old French van which opened to serve wood fired pizzas so there were lots of happy families which created a great atmosphere all round, while inside the diners had the peace and quiet. It was the first time Michael and I had really had the time to sit and discuss our future, or fate, whichever way one looked at it. So we drank too much fantastic wine, and ate wonderful seafood and had a little cry, but soon the whole ambience won us over, and we relaxed. It was just like being in a small village in France or Italy. We took a cab back to our gorgeous digs and fell into bed and slept like babies.
    After our superb breakfast we bade farewell to Pippy and John, our hosts at the B&B, and made our way to Emsworth. Pene had come to pick us up and gave us a guided tour. Albert and Pene have the perfect home within walking distance of the sea, and as Albi pointed out the town boasts over thirty pubs! Their house has a walled garden and herb patch, and it was full of gorgeous flowers. It had that wonderful calm about it which I always associate with walled gardens, as the old brickwork seems to absorb all outside noise except the birds and the bees. We sat and had a lovely glass of something cool and fizzy while awaiting the arrival of Julian Holloway. It was good to see him again and remember old times. We then adjourned to Albert’s local, The Bluebell, and had a glorious boozy lunch. I had fish and chips, it was bliss. The two actors then went home to watch the cricket and Pene took us down to a little beach hidden at the end of an alleyway right opposite their house. We sat and ate ice creams. Michael and I left them at teatime and returned to The Richmond Arms which was to be our bed for the night. It only has two rooms but they are both delightful, so one really does have to book early to avoid disappointment. There was a free-standing bath by an open window so I sat in the water watching the birds wheeling overhead outside, and listened to the sound of doves, their gentle cooing interrupted by the harsh shriek of an occasional seagull. Another balmy night and this time we had our dinner outside and chatted to some of the locals who were very pleasant and welcoming. It really was perfect. The next morning we rose to a full English breakfast of outstanding proportions then set off back to London feeling at peace with the world. I know it is a cliché but once one has seen the horizon beckon it is a duty to take each day as it comes, and grab every opportunity to enjoy the hours and days you have left.
     
    During these weeks though there were several pieces of sad news. My friend David Robb’s wife Briony McRoberts committed suicide on the