When a pub closes down it’s like losing a friend. You think back to good times had and wonder what might fill this sudden hole in your life.

So, farewell to the Sussex Cricketer. The pub by the entrance to Sussex County cricket ground in Eaton Road, Hove, pulled stumps on Sunday. After calling the last ‘last orders’ it will be demolished to make way for flats and a new entrance to the ground.

Drinkers over the last weekend looked around wistfully at surroundings they’d taken for granted for years. Souvenir hunters prowled, saving mementos from the skips.

I got to pull my last pint of Harvey’s. And I drank it among the ghosts of cricketers, sports fans, businessmen, lovers, families and all the others who have made up the warp and weft of a local pub over 80 years.

The closure came at the end of a week when the number of UK pubs rose slightly, reversing a decade of decline. 

That’s good news but it’s still sad to see an old friend go.

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Exciting plans in Todd Towers. A standalone thriller is taking shape with a novella on the back burner. Can’t tell you much. Frustrating, I know, but blame the grandson who seems to run things now. 

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The Australia bush fires are horrible. I have family and friends there and have visited a few times. It’s a fantastic country, great people. They’re Aussies, they’ll bounce back.

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Crime festival season will soon be upon us. The biggest – Harrogate and Bristol – are international events attracting bestseller writers.

I had no plans to attend but heard a Danny Lancaster fan wants a selfie with the author. 

Today bibliophiles don’t just enjoy their favourite books, they want to know and meet the authors. Festivals are a great way to do this.

I’m not a limelight kinda guy, I have the classic face for radio, but maybe I shouldn’t disappoint an avid reader. 

https://harrogateinternationalfestivals.com/crime-writing-festival/

https://www.crimefest.com/

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Winter has come and everyone’s walking in the road. I don’t enjoy tramping the dark, unfriendly streets. They’re cold, poorly lit with uneven surfaces. But I’m a big lumbering bloke in a woolly hat. I look scary. Can’t imagine what it’s like for more vulnerable folk wary of shadows.

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Toddler grandson received so many buzzing, clicking, bleeping pressies over Christmas I fear he’s developing a Size 12 carbon footprint.