Tom, at Casa Maria

I dropped into Haverfordwest's excellent Spanish cafe/restaurant* for a late coffee but after a while was distracted from my book by the arrival of this very dapper gent: he really was beautifully dressed, complete with hat and rolled umbrella. I decided he must have blown in from out of town, maybe on a date.

When he sat down at the same table and a single setting was laid, the urge to take his picture grew so strong that eventually I had to lean over and ask "Would he mind..?" He was happy to accede and seemed genuinely surprised and flattered that I should think him worthy of a photograph. Turned out he lives locally and we chatted about eating places in the area. Why he looked like he'd walked in off Bond Street I did not dare ask - I guess some people are just naturally stylish. I was glad that my old trainers, bought 2 years ago from a thrift shop in Philadelphia, were hidden from view.

There's certainly something about a man with a hat. Well, think Leonard Cohen, not Pete Doherty. And my own father - he never went out without one. When the time came to replace the old hat that had succumbed to 20 years of sun, rain and sweat, the purchase of a new one (from Bates in Jermyn Street, off Picadilly), would throw the family into crisis until he got accustomed to it. Carrying my father's hat out of the hospital where he died is still a poignant memory for me. I was only 23 so had probably experienced only one change of hat.

I left Tom to finish his tapas in peace - there was a baked aubergine dish to follow I noticed. Very civilised.

*If you're ever in Haverfordwest don't miss this place. It's outstanding.