A Trip to the Old Bull Ring

I am at a house. I don’t know whose it is. I am holding some pink ballet shoes. One looks smaller than the other, I think I might have two pairs, and adult pair and a child’s pair, one pair inside the other. My niece H. turns up on a pink bike, it looks like she has a second seat with wheels attached to the back. It is sticking out into the road (the house is on a bend in the road), so I move it. Ed. Also arrives on a bike. Gr. shows up driving dads Range rover. She drops something off and drives away. I don’t know why. L. says she must have been an hour and a half early.

I am walking through a building with my sister L. and my niece H.. It looks like it was built in the 60s or 70s. It reminds of the old bull ring in B’ham. We used to go shopping there every Sat with my mum. It is very busy, there are lots of Asian people. We walk down some stairs through all these people to this quiet place where there are some chairs and tables, nobody else is there. There is a patch of green grass outside. We have something to eat.