‘Yum,’ repeated Bernard. He said it very close to her royal ear.

This time she spun around. Her expression was indignant. ‘I beg your pardon.’

Bernard smiled as sweetly as a retard jack-o’-lantern. ‘It’s my mantra.’

Leigh-Cheri glowered at him, as only someone of the redheaded persuasion can glower. He was dressed all in black and had bad teeth. He was wearing Donald Duck sunglasses. Kiddie glasses. She turned back to the meditation instructor, who at once ceased scowling at Bernard and gave her a sympathetic look.

‘There are only two mantras,’ said Bernard. ‘Yum and yuk. Mine is yum.’