So today I went to order curtains for the living-room. My friend Murielle advised me where to go for them: she is an expert at shopping – she knows where to get 400 Euro bathing suits and 5 Euro bras (‘people get to see the bathing suits, not the bras’ she explained). I said that the curtains weren’t being bought to be seen, but to stop me seeing out, on my husband’s instructions (see Sweeney post below).

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So off I went to her recommended place (‘they make them up for free’) down the Chaussée d’Ixelles, with all the measurements written on a scrap of paper.

I found a friendly sales assistant who helped me choose (‘I want something sort of between nets and curtains; fine cotton, with a bit of texture, ivory rather than white…’). We selected the cloth and settled down at a desk to work out the quantities.

‘Do I get a discount?’ was my first question. The lady looked a little surprised.

‘Why do you think you should get a discount?’

‘Because I’m a nice person.’

‘But we don’t usually give discounts.’

‘Okay,’ I answered cheerfully.

Then came the usual opener. ‘Where are you from?’ So my life story followed, and the lady was quite upset to hear that I lived so far from my children.

‘But I’m close now!’ I said. ‘We can meet up so much more than when we lived in South America!’ And we chatted away. ‘Do you like your job?’ I asked. She seemed to, but I wondered what it must be like to be surrounded by slightly dusty bolts of cloth all day.

‘I love it,’ she said.

‘Have you always done this?’

‘No, I started three years ago.’

‘What did you do before?’

‘I was a housewife. I stayed at home to bring up our four kids. Four years ago my husband walked out on me.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. Did he go off with a younger woman?’

‘No, he went with a bottle. A few bottles, in fact. We haven’t seen him since. My first is an artist. The only boy. He just loves drawing. After my husband left I spent a year just lounging on the sofa drinking Coke and eating chips. Then my son told me I had to snap out of it. It’s thanks to him that I’m working here. They’re all great. The second one works in a bank. She always offers to help me out, but I don’t want to take anything from her. You know although I spent all their childhood years with them, I don’t feel they owe me anything. That’s not the way it works. They have to make their own lives. The last two are students, one studies law and the other economics. You know, there’s always a meal ready for me in the evening when I get home.’

Why do I always get myself into these situations, chatting to strangers?

Anyway, soon enough the sums were done, and the lady said ‘Hold on a second, I’ll ask my supervisor if you can get a discount.’

Suddenly I felt terribly guilty for having suggested it. ‘Why? Don’t bother.’

‘Because you listened to me.’

‘But that’s not the way it works. Just like you said about your children, you don’t owe me anything.’

‘No, I want to get you a discount. I enjoyed our chat.’

And the supervisor agreed.