“From a girl in your position, I expected better lies.”
I looked at Kate over my glass of water: “Don’t quote Rossini to me in the interval” I practically cried with laughter. “I merely read you a text I sent to our fellow gardener choir friend to say that the window boxes she had planted for you had died.”
“Yes! But what’s with the little blushing emotocon next to it with the rolling eyes heavenwards?!”
I giggled uncontrollably, in fact my stomach hurt.
The Barber of Seville had us in stitches, but in fairness we were off to a flying start with a pre-opera drink at Dukes Bar. You know winter has truly arrived when you find yourself with a cocktail trolley table-side and Alessandro the master barman conjuring up a couple of killer martinis.





