"There are seven deadly sins ... & the eighth & worst is EMOTIONAL BLACKMAIL"
I began our early conversation on Sunday morning, baking-hot beneath two duvets, before we had opened our eyes, with this gambit:
“If you really loved me, you’d have taken my bicycle before dawn, & cycled, still in your pyjamas, with a machete clenched between your teeth, to the tropical hot-house at Kew Gardens to shin up a palm tree & bring me a fresh coconut.”
The Loved One, obviously fully alert, but sounding very bored;
“I think I’ll have to eat those last two astonishingly delicious Anton Berg strawberry & champagne chocolates myself this morning.”
Myself, badly deflated by her expert counter-punching;
“You’ll miss me when I’ve joined the Foreign Legion.”
