The Battlefield Rest is one of my favourite eateries, serving delicious Italian cuisine. The building is stylish, constructed over one hundred years ago as a waiting room and resting place for the city’s trams, opposite the main entrance to the Infirmary. I’ve read that it was unused, semi-derelict and facing demolition prior to it being turned into a fashionable restaurant, some twenty-five years ago.
Having resolved how we’ll kill some time, we walk along Sinclair Drive
“Maybe this will make up for us missing out on our dinner last Friday,” Jenny says, then bites her lip thinking she’s said the wrong thing.
I doubt anything will ever make up for me not making it to the dinner last Friday, I think, but I say nothing. I don’t want to talk about it or make an issue of it; not now, anyway
