The Champion

Flossie calls. “Can I take you out for dinner?” “Yes,” I reply graciously “but only to the Organic Kitchen.”

After we’ve ordered I tell Flossie the story of Roberta and the £300 juice extractor. “But that’s just what I’ve been looking for” exclaims Flossie in delight. The meal arrives. With steely determination she ignores it. As her fillet of organic salmon with shaved fennel and green lentils congeals on the plate Flossie sits with head bent, a fork in her left hand and an iPhone in her right. She doggedly tracks down the Champion, reads the specifications, selects accessories, places an order and taps in her credit card details. Flossie is a psychotherapist so she is an expert in obsessive-compulsive behaviour. “There,” she says at last, with the beatific smile of a junkie who has just had a hit, “I’ve ordered two. One for you and one for me. They will be here on Wednesday.”