I was in a bit of a strange mood this morning so when Jan asked me what I wanted for breakfast I said, 'That nice seeded toast that you buy,' and, in quite a snide voice, 'some nice thick cut full blown marmalade.' Knowing full well that she prefers some thin cut rubbish from Tesco.
Well, blow me down, she took my breath away, she produced a small delicate looking jar, with a fancy velvet lid of beautiful looking marmalade. Exactly what I wanted.
Where the hell had that been hiding? Looking at the label produced even more intrigue. It was made by Le Manoir Aux'Quat Saisons, an establishment that not even in my heady expense account days could I have justified frequenting.
So, when had she been there and with whom? And how come I didn't notice? When I questioned her all I got was a small smile with the comment, 'you wanted a thick cut marmalade and that's what you've got.'
The plot thickens.
I do admire a woman who retains some mystery, just to keep her man on his toes.
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