Over the last few years, occasionally on trips to my sister Ruth’s home in London, I took my great niece, Charmaine, a fascinating and feisty teenager who at present is wheelchair bound for much of the time.

And this is what Charmaine says:

“Who will educate me on my London trips now? Who (when I am asked to try a certain food) will say, Try some of this! It was made with This and it’s got This in it, and it was made in This factory, and This is how they made it in the olden days and This is who owned the factory, and Try some, you might like it!

(So I say) I don’t think I’m going to like it!

(And Gordon says) I don’t think you’re going to like it – but you’ve got to try it! Try it for me!"

And Charmaine went on to say:

"Who will be my new Gordon?
I’ve got to do auditions!"

Then she goes on to ask me a load of impossibly hard questions, which I attempt to answer, to which she replies –

“WRONG! You see, GORDON would know the answer to that!

And Charmaine also says, “I am glad I am the first born in my family. Otherwise I would never have come to London with you and got to know Gordon.”