Over the last seven and a half years, Keith has perfected the art of appearing to listen carefully to what I am saying, whilst in reality, filtering out any information which he decides he doesn't actually need to retain.
"I have supervision today and I'm meeting Gill and Julie for lunch on Thursday," I said yesterday. Both these events happen in Chester, so he did at least know which area of the country I would be in, should he look around and realise that I wasn't bodily present. (He has been known to ring me mid-lunch to enquire where I was as the house was empty when he had come back from a job.)
"I met X (former counselling tutor) today," I said. "She was arriving as I was leaving."
Keith looked puzzled. "Who is she?"
"She used to teach on the counselling courses," I reminded him.
"Ah yes," he said, "So how does she know Gill and Julie? Oh no, of course, it wasn't 'ladies who lunch' day today, was it?"
Obviously, he has difficulty keeping up with my hectic schedule.
"Do you think you might take a doggy bag on Thursday?" he asked.