Harold was the friend no one wanted to sit next to at dinner.

There was history there and interests in common but Sally, Harvey and Liberty always had more verve.

In contrast Harold was a little rusty, a shade tired and, quite frankly, gauche.

But just as Sal, Harvs and Libs thought their positions at the top of the popularity polls were unthreatened, quite of the blue, Harold changed.

Out went the Richard James and in came the Robert Cary Williams. Harold was the first to ditch organic in favour of locally reared. Harold was no
longer hanging out in wine bars sending unattainable women drinks: Harold was the new boy about town. Harold had got with the programme.

Time was when Harrods seemed little more than a landmark, but things have
changed. There've been dog shows, a lifestyle department, a tearoom and now the extended, late night hours. Not only will two foodhalls be open until 11pm (hmmm, would I prefer fresh pheasant with artichoke stuffing or Tesco's boil in the bag again tonight?), but so will the Farmacia.

So should you overindulge in the prior you can pop in for a quick wrap in the latter and be back to svelte in no time.

Midnight marauding or murder at the makeup counter? It's Harvey that everyone's wary of now.