HE JUST NEEDS SOME TABLETS AND A GOOD STEAK

The teenage boys were walking towards me on their way to the rowing club. As they approached, I picked up on their conversation.

One boy, tucking into a bag of crisps, said: “I don’t think it’s serious.”

“Not serious?” said his friend, ambling along in shorts and wellies. “It’s really serious. It’s mental health.”

“No,” said the crisp muncher. “He just needs some tablets and a good steak.”

“That won’t work. He’ll just sick it back up. He needs to stop sicking stuff up.”

The crisp muncher screwed up the empty packet and pushed into the other boy’s chest.

“I said he was anaemic. Not bulimic.”