I didn’t expect such a civilised house based on the external appearance of the Coppice, but it was very nice indeed. It was at noon, midweek early August, and only myself and two others haunted the joint but the landlady turned up the England match in the Women’s World Cup for one of the gents and the other spent time sorting a massive pile of coins (apparently a successful evening gambling preceded). I restrained my impulse to sit at the piano.
Endless British Pub Crawl (Part 3) 