We're standing in line at an over-lit Sainsbury's discussing the virtues of my daughter's marital predicament, which has been the source of great focus ever since I revealed she couldn't marry her father. "I wanted to marry Jonah but Jonah is marrying Isobel, she told me, so I'm going to marry Oliver Tiff because sometimes he hurts me but he's a nice boy really. But if Oliver Tiff marries Isla then I'll just marry Raffy," she explains, her oval cockney vowels punctuated by the bleeping of the till.
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