Walking home from La Buvette.

H: ‘These sandals have turned out brilliant. Last year I thought, “Oh bum, they’re a lemon,” but suddenly they’ve gone all soft and comfortable.’

V: (glances down; grunts)

H: (mimics his voice) ‘Huh. Pity they’re so ugly.’

V: (with a cross laugh) ‘You bloody women! You always think you know what a bloke’s thinking!’

H: ‘No we don’t! We have to make it up! You won’t engage with us! You won’t answer when we speak! You present us with a blank face! We have to invent a response, out of loneliness and despair! So we won’t have to live in an emotional vacuum!’