Barrelling out of Colette to join Nigela at our favourite St Honore street cafe, I squeezed in next to him and his new friend from Buenos Aires. Ramina had enlisted his help looking after her bags while she nipped for a wee and then coming back realised that she'd encountered that rarest of species - a man trapped in a tight spot who'd have to listen to her woes. It turned out that the night before, teetering on her Laboutin's, she'd been pushed from behind and had slipped on the pavement landing face first. Initially interested in a bit of blood and gore, his polite mask was slipping and his teeth beginning to show, by the time I arrived as she was beginning to segue into 'women's talk'. Luckily I enthusiastically picked up the slack and was very soon immersed in her life story while Nigel quickly got back on the 'weefee' to see if there was any more joy to be squeezed from Australia's last trouncing by the English.
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