A (saline) solution to my woes

Hedge Fund Girlfriend has had a lot of stress in her life of late. Markets in disarray, too many long-distance business trips, and the failure of Manolo Blahnik to adjust its opening hours to accommodate her ever-longer working day. Still, at least her daughter is now ensconced in the right school and HFG didn’t even have to write a cheque for a new science block.

Having been spared a vast donation to the school, HFG and her husband were therefore relaxed when they bought a week in Tuscany at a charity auction. HFG is of course a veteran of the Ark gala dinner – this year attended by the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge – but the Tuscany lot was acquired at a rather less lofty event. A week at half term secured, HFG lost no time in finding another family to share it with and then booked them all non-refundable tickets.

It was a good thing HFG invited friends because she doesn’t really do cleaning – and the first thing the two families had to do was scrub the entire place. You’d have thought the plastic sheeting on the furniture would have kept the dirt off, but when it rained and water poured through the roof, the sheeting’s main purpose became clear.

But what do you do when you have bought an auction lot and your money has gone off to charity? You can hardly call the owner and complain, and charity auction lots are not covered by Atol. HFG evacuated herself, husband and daughter to a hotel in Florence and bought new flights home. The other family opted to take their chances in the now slightly less grubby villa.

I don’t blame HFG – us working mothers need the occasional holiday or we’ll end up so stressed we have to take time off work. I’ve had to do quite a lot of that recently while I battled with a series of sinus-related issues, and thank you to those of you who have sympathised. I also need to thank all those people who have put up with me not firing on all cylinders, including those at a recent lunch in support of Mencap, where I was the guest speaker/cougher. I was seated next to the incomparable Sir William Purves – readers under 40, Google him. I bet when he was serving with HM Forces in the early 1950s (the only National Serviceman to be awarded the DSO) any whingeing about sinuses would have been thought pretty feeble.

What fixed me in the end was a youthful-looking ENT specialist in Oxford, a Mr James Ramsden. I didn’t need surgery in the end; he put a camera down each nostril to inspect things (very uncomfortable, despite the local anaesthetic) and then handed out more drugs and a plastic bottle to be used for squirting stuff up my nose.

The instructions begin with “stand over a sink”, so I knew this was not going to be pleasant. I was right – it felt as though I was upside down in a swimming pool, but it worked brilliantly. I went to buy one of these bottles over the counter for Mr M and it cost £15! That’s £15 for a plastic bottle and a few sachets of saline solution. I know most of the stuff that people put up their noses costs more than that, but this was legal. Still, it worked a treat, everything is functioning properly and I am coughing no more.

I thought of the margins and immediately went online to see if I could buy shares in the manufacturer, NeilMed Pharmaceuticals, but it seems not.

I was pleased to stop coughing, for I was scheduled to sit in a hushed courtroom to see the Lord Chief Justice swear in Charles Haddon-Cave QC as a new High Court judge. The Lord Justice of Hong Kong, Geoffrey Ma, was also present, in honour of this triathlete who has spent much of his professional life in Hong Kong. The packed room was testament to the popularity of Haddon-Cave, who smiled modestly as people said nice things about him. There may not have been a Manolo Blahnik in sight, but no one looked at all stressed.

mrsmoneypenny@ft.com

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