The evening before last we had dinner with what appears to be one of the last vestiges of Empire. She was born, bred and raised Empire. Veddy veddy British/Malay/Aussie. Veddy veddy polite, nice, interesting, but of a certain ilk. The kind of person who would listen to almost anyone, tell them entertaining stories, and then reserve judgment until they left the building. Luckily she liked us. But there is just something about that kind of person- makes me a tad uncomfortable- like if I let my guard down, I'll get totally slammed for being common.

But she is older, and very, very rich. With wonderful jewels. And an interesting life spent many time zones beyond mine. And she worked very hard on the dinner. We like her.

I just had to keep reminding myself to use the appropriate fork, and not to talk whilst my mouth was overfull. So sometimes I am actually thankful that my mean Grandfather taught me the manners under duress when I was 6. God the trauma, that. But probably for the best now.