Alarming phone conversation with my mum the other day. In the middle of chatting about my niece and nephew’s latest antics and the rain in the leafy Midlands, she casually asked ‘Darling, have you heard of Professor Green?’
‘Yes!’ I spluttered, ‘But why have you?!’
‘Because he’s just married Millie dear, Millie Mackintosh and she’s an heir to Quality Street.’
And the conversation moved on and I was left smiling; my mum watches Made in Chelsea and I don’t and has conversations with my friends about it that I can’t keep up with.
But earlier this year, when I was homesick and waiting for Z to arrive, I found myself watching ancient repeats of Made in Chelsea purely for the cutaways of London; shots of Albert Bridge at night, the Fulham Road by day, the South Bank and Knightsbridge – fleeting glimpses of my city I’d left behind.
Fast forward nine months and for the last couple of days, in the late afternoon Autumnal sunshine, Z and I have enjoyed some fine al fresco dining just outside the National Theatre and opposite Somerset House. In several places along the South Bank there are these enormous, brightly coloured bench style seats, which are perfect to lie down on with Z sitting on my tummy. They overlook Waterloo Bridge and are close to where Hugh Grant’s Charlie declared ‘I think I love you’ to Andie MacDowell’s Carrie in Four Weddings and a Funeral.
As fine dining experiences go, the views are second to none and the menu of a carrot and tomato rice cracker entree, blended chicken casserole for mains, a steamed fruits dessert followed by water from a sippy cup is popular with my young dining companion.
He hasn’t quite mastered dining etiquette yet, yesterday he sneezed a mouthful of chicken casserole all over me and poured water down his trousers, but when it comes to mealtimes for babies, the messier the better.
Sweeping rain is forecast for the next few days so we’ll have to honour our reservation at High Chair in the Kitchen. But at the next hint of sunshine before winter really sets in, my little diner will be wrapped up warm and whisked off to the South Bank for his tea, just because we can.