‘Darling,” said the ageing socialite, sashaying over to her table in the fashionable Chelsea restaurant. “How have you been?”
“Not good,” said her friend, who was also an ageing socialite. “I had the coronavirus.”
“How common!” shuddered the first, who was theoretically an interior designer, too.
“Er, yes,” said her friend, an ex-PR. “Famously.”
“No, darling,” said the designer. “Common as in non-U. As Nancy Mitford used to say. Getting sick is regarded as deeply undesirable.”
“Darling!” said the ex-PR. “People have died!”
“And those people,” said her friend, sternly, “can never show their faces in decent society again.”
The ex-PR was confused and it was only thanks to the Botox that she managed not to show it.
“Of course,” continued the designer, “nobody should.