2 Score years and none.

After a whole year of worrying about it, my birthday arrived and I didn't suddenly feel old, develop arthritis, die my hair blue, start thinking that an alarm clock or Parker pen is a great incentive, tune into radio 3, buy a cardigan or begin using the phrase "I 'ad it all down on side!" Nor did I get all depressed at the loss of my youth and -ahem!- good looks.

Besides, there are only four candles (anyone else suddenly pictured Ronnie Barker?) on my banana cake* and cakes are incapable of dishonesty.

So I can't possibly be forty.



*Cake kindly supplied by Tor. It was great.