Obviously she lost it a bit in the last thirty seconds, but I think that was just the carpal tunnel setting in. I don't think Lisa and I could get that far with our left hands. And Lisa's left-handed.
But whilst I consider whether mancinism is a sign of the devil, I've had news from the more god-fearing, psychic side of the family. Lisa's Mum phoned us up last night, refused to speak to Lisa, and asked to talk to me. When I picked up the phone, she informed me in hushed tones that she'd had a dream on Friday night about one of Amelie's socks. I told her that sounded more like a nightmare, and entered the phrase 'Brighton care homes' into Google as she continued.
Amelie, it turns out, didn't appear in the dream, but her sock played such a central role, and the dream had been so vivid, that my mother-in-law woke up on Saturday morning convinced she'd had a vision. She then checked the morning paper and saw that a horse called 'Smarty Socks' was running in the 3:15 at Ascot.
The rest is obvious. Suffice it to say that we now have serious wealth in the family, the next series of 'Secret Millionaire' is in the bag, and Lisa's expecting the kind of inheritance that would make Paris Hilton look underprivileged. Or she would be if her Mum had put more than two quid on the thing. That horse might have romped home, but all she can treat us to is a packet of crisps and a Kit-Kat. I told her to phone me before the race next time.