The restaurant was already humming all muffled voices only stopping to shove in another mouthful of food. As waiters ran from table to table like desperate bees on the last flowers of summer the door swung open and in filed twenty new customers. ‘Table for twenty please’, ‘I’m sorry sir as you can see we are very busy tonight and we couldn’t possibly fit in twenty now’. ‘No, no sir you miss-understand the table is booked’ replied the group leader. The waiter checked the bookings diary like a late traveller studying a train timetable. ‘I’ve no booking for twenty tonight, what name is it under?’ The man stepped forward ‘it’s the Alzheimer’s Association’ he replied as the waiters face contorted in to a painful frown. ‘Sir your table is booked for tomorrow’.