As the weather forecast was truly atrocious, I suggested we allow plenty of extra travel time, what with the floods and terrible traffic queues and such.

The journey, as it goes, was actually very pleasant as we tootled up the M5 in the glorious sunshine arriving two-and-a-half hours early.

Muddy hates being early with a passion: 10 minutes late is still five minutes early in her book. Strangely enough, since the Bull Ring has been transformed into a shoppers' paradise, she doesn't seem to mind what time we get there these days, although I'm sure Megan (opener of the envelopes) won't be that thrilled when she gets the telltale receipts followed by "…these shoes were in the sale and there's this new face cream…"

Muddy's mum, Di, accompanies us on this trip, so we head off to the Selfridges Food Hall for lunch. Selfridges is also 100 years old this year but I don't believe they do actually sell fridges. We've tried the noodle bar before so we head for the grill. Disaster. The entire staff have been struck down with some terrible form of time warp disease, either that or they've been at the Mogadons. Half an hour to make a sandwich!

Thanks to the open plan "look how busy we are" layout, our experience is made even worse by the fact we can see and share every painstaking stage of the desperate procedure. What with lettuce boy and tomato woman being in the way, butter/meat man is having trouble getting to the grill to extinguish the towering inferno that is my burger.

Napkin-Cole who also does cutlery, eventually brings two of our orders but without the cutlery or napkins – this takes a further three journeys. At some point in the future, Di's smoked salmon and cream cheese salad will arrive – without the cheese.

Believe it or not, I'm now late for my rehearsal. Some hours later, Mud and Di arrive with many bags... and many freshly made doughnuts. Minutes before the concert begins we get news that Di's salmon salad has arrived.