"Maybe we should have eaten with the others", say I, "They might think we're avoiding them."
"Or forming our own little religious cult", says Carl.
"Please", says Francois, from the comfy armchair, "We had enough of those fun and games with dear Douglas at the helm."
"I am stretched out on the bed with my plate of dinner on my lap, and propped up by a couple of pillows. Carl occupies the chair by the desk.
"These potatoes are just dandy", says Carl. "The magic of Mel."
"Your sister is one marvellous cook", says Francois. "Did she train as a chef?"
"In Zurich. Taught by the best."
"Boy, I'll say", say I. I turn to Francois, "Anyway, this seems like a good time to debrief from what happened. But, what happened, anyway?"
Again he is wearing a beatific smile. "You tell me."
"Are you okay?" says Carl."
"Never felt better", says François. "Never felt better in my life..."
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