“Do we need to go out anywhere today?” Mark asked.
We were standing at the kitchen sink, looking out over a soggy back garden.
“Don’t think so.” Then I remembered something. “Didn’t you say you wanted to have a look at garden sheds?”
Mark’s face lit up. He’d been poring over brochures and leaflets for weeks, weighing up the pros and cons of each design.
He seemed to be favouring a shed with an attached lean-to greenhouse. “So we can grow our own tomatoes,” he’d enthused.
“Can’t you grow tomatoes outside?” I’d asked.
“Yes. They often taste better, but they don’t produce much fruit.” I’d forgotten that the tomato for some strange reason was classified as a fruit.
“Shouldn’t we wait until we know how much the boiler’s going to cost before we start looking at sheds?” Mark went over to
