Three weeks ago, young Tim turned up at badminton.
I'd met Tim in an idiosyncratic pub which serves excellent beer. I had been chatting in Poets' Corner with a friend from badminton about putting up shelves, motorbikes and whether he was going to play at the next session. Tim overheard our conversation and asked about the badminton club.
"This is Tim," I said to Hollie the following Tuesday. "I met him when I was out with Paul."
The next Tuesday, Chelsea asked me who the new guy was with Tim. It turned out to be young Jack. "I hear you met Tim when you were out on the pull," said Chelsea, "I'm impressed." I was momentarily perplexed, blushing. "Oh! No!" I insisted. "I met Tim when I was having a drink with Paul," adding, by way of explanation, "talking about badminton. And shelving." This suddenly sounded highly implausible.
This week, Tim and Jack turned up with young Raj. When Chelsea arrived, she winked at me.
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