'Cup of coffee, toast and jam.'
'Lunch?'
'Cheese sarni. Cathedral City. Extra mature.'
'And for supper?'
'Pasta and a Tesco Finest chocolate mousse.'
I'm sitting opposite Dr Ling, running her through what I ate yesterday. It's the second time I've seen her this year, following the mortifying panic attack in the middle of 'Wicked'. I wonder if she's ever had a panic attack - doubt it - she's such a neat, self-contained little woman in her nice cream cashmere cardy and American tan tights.
'You realise that your diet is extremely acidic, which can result in chronic health issues,' says Dr Ling. 'Extreme fatigue, headaches, poor concentration, aching joints, even premature ageing.'
'What's that got to do with the panic attacks?'
'It all feeds into one another.'
'Nice pun,' I say but Dr Ling is already jotting down a website link and doesn't react.
'Metabolic acidosis, adenosine triphosphate, mitochondria...' Dr Ling is still talking but she's totally lost me with the long words. She really is quite clever. Bet she knows the answer to everything. Probably in the team for University Challenge when she was at Oxford. Bamber would have loved her.
'As for the panic attacks,' says Dr Ling, 'I could prescribe you a mild anti anxiety drug, but I'd prefer that you saw someone first.' She writes down a name and telephone number beneath the heavily underlined Acid-Alkaline -Food-chart link and hands me the piece of paper with a tight smile.
'Any other questions?'
'Yes,' I say, 'where does a shrimp keep its heart?'
'I'm sorry?'
I repeat the question but Dr Ling just looks confused.
'I'm going to have to hurry you here,' I say.
Dr Ling is beginning to frown.
'Little University Challenge question there,' I say, 'fell a bit flat though,' I pop the piece of paper into my pocket and leg it to the door.
'How was Dr Ling?' Geoff is already installed at our favourite Coffee Plant window seat with an extra large cup of coffee and a copy of the Star.
'Neat and clever,' I say, taking the stool next to him. 'Although she didn't know that a shrimp's heart is in its head.'
'Hopeless,' grins Geoff.
'Why so cheery?' I say, glancing out of the window as a bright pink karma cab slides by.
'Have a guess?'
'You've been selected for the Olympic triathlon team?'
'Close,' says Geoff, 'a guy from the Print Room theatre called this morning about that play I sent them all those months ago. I'm meeting him this afternoon.'
'That's brilliant,' I say leaning over to hug him.
'Don't get over-excited now,' says Geoff. 'You know what'll happen.' He proceeds to do a pretty pathetic imitation of me having a panic attack, hands flapping around his face and puffing like four hundred meter sprinter.
'You wearing that jacket to meet the guy?' I say, taking a bite of my celebratory and probably highly acidic croissant.
Geoff looks down at the yellow stains crusting around his right cuff, contemplates them for a few seconds then nods over towards the dry cleaner's opposite. 'Can you lend us a tenner?'
Catch the final episode of Portobello Puff next week...