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zipper up an inch, smiling at Hal who was breathing down my neck but pretending not to.
    Archie and Sylvia glanced at one another questioningly. It was a complicit look of a long married couple that needed no words, and that glance alone told me that this shared look between them had not occurred for some time. Usually between long standing couples a raised eyebrow can speak volumes, but the knack, for that is what it is, can be lost. I was relieved to see it as it makes my job easier and quicker. And to be candid with you, I didn’t have too much time to give to the Ambles. I had only just squeezed them in as it was.
    “Are we all ready?” I enquired, “Oh Bella, I think you will need a scarf darling, it’s quite cold outside,” I said, winding her multi coloured woollen scarf around and around her podgy neck.
    I glanced in the mirror to see if Sylvia was going to bridle even slightly at me looking after the welfare of her youngest child, but she meekly stood by without flinching. I wound the scarf to throttle- like firmness and marched the Ambles into the cold frosty air.
    I tucked my arm into Sylvia’s and chattered to her as the others followed behind us. We passed the lit windows of other affluent white- painted homes and were treated to slices of other lives. Sylvia made instinctively to turn left at the top of the road, ready to make a diagonal crossing towards the welcoming lights of the trattoria. It had hanging lamps and a striped awning with two bay trees in large terracotta pots outside. I didn’t blame her. It looked inviting and homely, but not tonight.
    “Oh no. We’re going this way,” I cried, pointing away from the restaurant and towards the main road. I pressed on, dragging Sylvia at a brisk pace with me. The others followed and I heard speculation about where we were going.
    We passed several eating places, Thai, Malaysian, Indian, Italian, Spanish and one lone French bistro bravely flapping a tricolour in the night air. Sylvia was starting to pant trying to keep up with me. I set a fair pace and didn’t allow them to dawdle. Only Hal, who was obviously fit due to the unhealthy obsession that all English school boys have with outside pursuits, was enjoying the night walk.
    “I say, Miss Tate, Flora, is it much further? Because if it is, I think a taxi might be –“ Archie Amble called out. I turned the tone of his voice over in my mind, it wasn’t cross or exasperated, merely questioning. It did have the tang of the skipper about it though. A let’s-consult-the-men-even-though-I’m-in-charge quality.
    I pointed up a tiny side street that was littered with empty cardboard boxes and stray bits of vegetation flapping in the night air. One lamppost was shining a sickly light onto a brick wall covered in graffiti half way down it.
    “There, up there, not much longer,” I called encouragingly mustering the troops.
    “What’s up there?” Sylvia asked, affronted that such a street was even in her neighbourhood.
    “Uncle Kong’s finest Cantonese canteen, and the original Chinese Elvis! Aren’t we lucky? He only plays here once a month,” I said proudly, ushering them up the dark and gloomy path. “I do hope you all know how to use chopsticks and can sing Heartbreak Hotel?”
    I heard a stifled giggle from Bella and a cough of disbelief from Archie, but they all followed me like lambs, bless them.

 
     
    Rule Number Four
     
    ‘ Eating is a sacred ritual . Never mix food with entertainment . It is too wearisome for the soul . Musicians at a meal only produce indigestion and discomfort . ’
     
     
     
    Dinner was an unqualified success. Well, it was for me. I adore cheap Chinese food, so many additives, so much lovely MSG. Delicious. But then anything is when you don’t have it very often, isn’t it? I made sure that Bella had more than her fair share of anything deep fried, and I kept Sylvia and Archie’s glasses topped up with an indifferent white. Archie squirmed a little when he