Last night was the first time I’d been to Leftwing Idiot’s in a week or so. I went into the kitchen, sat down, swivelled round to face the geranium – and my tics immediately addressed it:

“Oh! Geranium, you’ve matured!”

“Geranium, you look ravishing.”

“Geranium, it’s a good job we didn’t euthanase you for being an ugly child.”

My tics were right – the geranium did look good, taller, more elegant and topped with a cluster of delicate pink flowers. Poppy had recently re-potted it and given it some much needed Baby Bio.

Who knows if my tics will maintain this vaguely affectionate new approach to Leftwing Idiot’s precious plant? He certainly didn’t seem too convinced.