It is Olivia’s birthday party today. She will be thirteen, which, according to Mrs LG is “a very important age”, which means that everyone in the LG family except for yours truly and Tom is out getting their hair and nails done.

Her actual birthday is on Monday and because I will be away for this, and because I was in Hong Kong last week where everything is cheap, Mrs LG suggested that I buy something to put in what I like to call the “going-home now thank God” party bags.

So I decided to check out one of Hong Kong’s most famous street markets.

 “I want to go to a market” I said to the taxi driver

“WHA?” shouted the taxi driver. Taxi drivers tend to shout at me a lot.

“A market” I said “where I buy cheapy cheapy”

“YOU WAN RADYS MARKET” the driver nodded sagely

“Ladies Market?”

“RADYS MARKET CHEAP CHEAP”

“Yes, but I don’t want to buy any ladies?”

But it had been decided and I was slammed against the back seat and we were off with my head swimming with thoughts of being tossed into some back road nightclub. But twenty minutes later we were amidst large crowds and market holders adept at untying even the tightest of purse strings. And of course I realised immediately why it was called “Ladies Market” because it was full of pretty, shiny things that nobody needs.

So I jostled my way happy among the stalls, smiling “no” politely, until I stumbled upon a group of children slapping brightly coloured plastic watches onto their wrists.

The watches were rigid, but as they hit a hard surface (aka a wrist) the straps sprang to life and coiled tightly around the object. Utterly brilliant, I thought. Shiny. Tick. Novel. Tick.

But were they cheap?

“How much are these watches?” I asked

“ONE HUNRED THIRY DOLLA”

No tick there then. There are just over ten Hong Kong dollars to the pound, making these watches just shy of thirteen quid each. So if Olivia was inviting ten friends to the party I’d need over a hundred quid.

“How much for more than one?”

“HOW MA YOU WANT?”

It was a good question and I held up an index finger to indicate a hiatus in our negotiations and called Mrs LG, who was lunching somewhere in the UK. I explained the story so far and repeated the stall holder’s question.

There was a pause.

Pause are not good signs in the LG household, for they indicate Mr LG has unwittingly stumbled across information that has previously been hidden from Mr LG on a Need To Know basis.

“Thirty” said Mrs LG.

“THIRTY?” I spat into the phone.

The stall holder perked up.

“Where is she having the party?”

“At our house” said Mrs LG, calmly. “It’s going to be a disco. And actually it’s more like thirty five”

“FOR THIRY I GIVE YOU SEVENY DOLLA EA”

“ARE YOU CRAZY?” 

“No I’m not crazy” said Mrs LG

“OK. OK. NOT CRAZY. SIXTY DOLLA” said the stall holder

“Who are you talking to?” asked Mrs LG

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING”

“OK. OK. NOT KIDDING” shouted the stall holder. “FIFTY DOLLA LAST PRICE”

“Are you talking to me or him?” asked Mrs LG

“YOU”

“Well, i think you should be talking to him. That sounds like a jolly good price to me” said Mrs LG. “Get forty five to be safe. Probably a few will drop out”

“FORTY FIVE?”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA” the stall holder belly laughed before leaning in towards me and the phone “OK, OK, FORTY FI DOLLAR. NO MORE.”

“DONE” said Mrs LG.

And I had been.