Driving through town I saw a man crossing the road. He was wearing a pale turquoise-blue shell suit: I was sure it was Mutley. I waved to him but he showed no sign of recognising me so maybe it wasn't. Or maybe he didn't want to damage his image by waving to me.
Then I saw a young woman in white hipster jeans and an orange t-shirt that ended at her navel. I became my granny. 'You will so get a cold in your kidleys, my girl.'
Finally, when Betty and I were sitting at traffic lights a porsche pulled up behind us. 'Don't worry, Betty,' I said, 'he's a very much younger cousin of yours. Just because he's driven by Mr Cool, with shades on and the roof down doesn't mean anything. I'm cool the instant I sit in you.' I didn't add that might have something to do with the gap around the door frame; like all women, she's very sensitive about her condition.