Swift Scribbles: And Then…
We had a small bet.
I’d offered her lunch at my place and she came over faithfully. She brought a bottle of white wine and I was about to serve the meal when she said something about not bothering about window dressing because she already knew the meal couldn’t be anything more than noddles.
I was offended.
I told her – or rather asked what she would do if the meal was nothing remotely similar to noddles. She said she’d stay over.