My best friend’s name is Ian, but I call him Yardley.

I suppose that once upon a time the nickname meant something, but it has long since been lost to those fiendishly impenetrable trails of memory where the thistles have grown so dense there is no way through.

It is a nickname that defies explanation. Yardley is a brand of cosmetics favoured by the kind of middle-aged, middle-minded lady who l...