Nicholas Lezard

She’s in hospital, the cat’s starving (apparently), and somehow Deborah Levy turns up in the lift

I am neither the infidel, and nor do I find myself in heaven

Some have been real, like Richard Coles, and others ghosts from my past – like Debbie, the barmaid I squirted with a soda siphon

Remember: it only counts if you spend at least six hours wishing you were dead.

Not to be confused with Brighton, thank you very much.

A new store opening in Brighton makes a visit to the Swedish homewares emporium a looming inevitability.

It wasn’t as bad as my frozen shoulder, but I do have to avoid laughing.

So, naturally, I must sacrifice myself for my country.

Goodbye, for now, to a place that has played a formative role in my life – and this column.

The barman who made our pre-dinner Martinis was good at his job, and this may be where our problems began…