Now, as I walked the last bit home along the seafront, the missing link that would save me a small fortune in accumulated long-way-round fares, there was nothing.
I could hear the waves crashing onto the shingle on my left. I could hear the sound of a motorbike up on the main road, somewhere, but there were no voices and no words to entertain me.
A big empty space had opened up in my head, ready for my innermost thoughts to rush into.
Fortunately, I had my phone on me and I rang Richie to see what he’d made of Thursday night’s Celebrity Witch Hunt.