Conversations

Chewing the fat in the evening sunlight on London's South Bank. I'd been to a "thing", a presentation with drinks and nibbles, something to do with branding and trends. We've all been obsessed with looking back these past few years, reflected in the popularity of TV programmes on baking, sewing and ballroom dancing. But this presentation suggested that trends may be changing towards looking to the future, rather like we saw in the 1950s and 60s with the emergence of the space age. Personally I was looking no further than the goody bag which turned out to be a bit disappointing - no chocolate but some unsatisfying crisp-type things shaped like aliens and a packet of those sherbert flying saucers you may remember trying as a kid.

I was in a bit of a hole of my own making back home, having eaten two small chocolate bars that, it turned out, had never been mine to eat. Their consumption had been the result of a break down in communications. Apparently my ration was a single bar but Gill hadn't mentioned it before leaving. The first I knew of any discord was a mobile phone message that in no uncertain terms described the strength of Gill's vexation at arriving home to find her pack of chocolate bars intact in every respect apart from the chocolate. The goody bag would save my bacon, I was certain, so I was a bit grieved to find that chocolate did not feature in futuristic brand treatment. Good old M&S next to Woking station saved the day - I bought a chocolate bar as a peace offering - so harmony is restored in the Donkin household, I think. What is it about women and chocolate?