"That's him,' she groaned. 'And let me tell you, he's a fraud. If you could have heard the way he talked to poor Phoebe-'

'Most people talk to their kids like that,' said Sonya wisely. 'That's not sexism. That's parentism.'

'It still doesn't justify the remarks he made about women drivers,' said Lee firmly.

'But you can't blame a man for what he says when his car's been damaged,' protested Mark. 'That's not sexism either. It's driverism. I don't suppose you were sweetness and light yourself.'

'Well, he had no right to call me a fluffy-headed little thing. I certainly wouldn't have put him down as a man who wanted his daughter to be a judge.'

'He's wasting his time. Women are incapable of being impartial,' Mark declared from the lofty heights of his age. 'They should be kept ignorant-like Sonya.'

'Well, it would be better than knowing eight languages and talking drivel in all of them,' Sonya countered.

He departed without deigning to reply. Sonya murmured wistfully, 'One of these days I'm really going to enjoy kicking his shins.'

'Aren't you supposed to be working that off in your fantasies?' Lee enquired.

'Oh, no, Mum. Kicking his shins is for real life. The fantasy is boiling him in oil.'

Later that evening the phone rang. 'Lee, thank heavens I found you in,' said a relieved voice on the other end.

'Hello, Sal. What's the crisis?' Sally was an old friend who worked for a public relations firm.

'Could you possibly do an extra session tomorrow? Please, Lee. It'll save my life.'

'It's a bit difficult,' Lee said doubtfully. 'I'm fully booked. I could fit someone in at the end, but they'd have to wait a while. Who is it?'

'Daniel Raife. It's for his new book.'

'Sorry, Sal, you're wasting your time. I'm Daniel Raife's most unfavourite person since our cars collided. He'd never let me take his pic'