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The sigh from the spare room was like a wind tunnel doing an impression of a steam train. This was followed by the sound of Mr Dear doing his best impression of Victor Meldrew: ‘I doooon’t believe it.’
‘What on earth are you doing in there?’
‘I’m just measuring my body fat,’ came the reply.
Of course he was. Silly question really.
‘Why would you want to do that?’
‘I’m just curious, that’s all.’
‘Curious is a polite word for what you are. As long as you