Tom Binns was in the pub enjoying a lunchtime drink with my colleague KC. I interrupted their conversation to invite Tom Binns to lunch with me during the Edinburgh Fringe. She (for Tom Binns is really a woman) was reluctant to accept my invitation.
‘I’m not that funny at the dinner table’, she confessed. ‘You must remember that Ian D Montfort is only an act.’
‘I don’t mind’, I replied. ‘I often meet up with Kev F Sutherland and I don’t expect him to deliver one-liners with every other utterance. If you like, we could compromise and just meet for a drink?’
I was about to leave when KC grabbed me and asked if I had made a decision on joining him on the Titanic for a trip to the Artic. I mumbled an excuse.
Then he queried my assessment of the work of one of his students.
‘Was it really that bad?’ he asked.
‘Appalling’, I replied, casting a glance at the marked-up script that he had pushed under my nose.
I also noticed that a second copy of the dissertation had been marked by DM, and he had come to the same conclusion as me. Despite this, KC said that he would still be recommending the student for a Masters degree.