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Oxley had something called a Brewdog Vagabond Pale Ale, which came in a bottle and which he claimed never to have tasted before.
‘I’m trying new things,’ he said.
Including a new suit in khaki chambray that had either been tailored deliberately baggy or had once belonged to someone else. Isis was similarly smartly turned out in a burgundy floor-length dress and matching jacket with cream buttons. I did mention that the opera had got a lot more informal since they last attended, which didn’t seem to bother Isis at all.
‘Well, I dress to please myself,’ said Isis, and clinked glasses with Beverley.
‘And I dress to please my love,’ said Oxley.
They all looked at me.
‘I dress to project an aura of confident authority,’ I said.
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