“Apparently it’s going to be hot tomorrow in London,” MindReader says, slowing to a stop at a junction.

“Oh, nice,” I say. MindReader is going to watch the cricket in London. I am going to Oxford with some friends.

“I want to wear shorts but then if it’s not hot…” MindReader says. “What would you do?”

I contemplate this as we drive through Birmingham. “What I would do,” I say eventually, “is take an old pair of jeans I don’t like, and daisy duke them if it gets warm. Take scissors.”

“Ha,” MindReader says. “I really don’t know why I bother asking.”