OME weeks ago at a party, I was chatting to a communist about her days at Cheltenham Ladies’ College. She has a reputation for being suspicious of people politically, but I’ve always thought it a bit unfair. At her wedding, she tactfully placed me on a table with an uncle who likes fishing and she didn’t seem to mind that I knew very few, which admittedly was a welcome change after singing and at the 15 other weddings I went to that summer.
