‘I was a fairy-bread hogger at parties,’ he told me seriously, his eyes immediately changing. ‘I used to put them in my pockets or hide them wherever I could, until one day I was exposed when my host handed me my parka and four slices of fairy bread fell out. I was seven years old and up till this day if I ever see fairy bread I palpitate and realise that psychologically I will never be cured.’

I laughed at his theatrics and took the Tim Tam he offered me.