This has been going on for a while - ever since I came of drinking age and quickly learnt that a version of the truth on most national or local matters or at least an inkling can be found in the stranger sitting next to me in the pub; that woman in the mathree; that cab-driver late at night.

But there was nothing he could do about Villa's second when Agbonlahor crossed from the left and Bent finished with a precision volley.

Wouldn’t that serve as an excuse, in Boston? I am told they are very sincere; they don't tell fibs.

Too many things were said at once, questions about bags and journeys, platform tickets (Wysbraum had lost them), concern for Izzie, all orchestrated with a triumphal note regarding the parcel and the dress.