I was hanging out my washing when a very dashing Mason called around. It’s true that I was expecting him, however I was afraid he might not remember me after such a long time… But no, he smiled and I gushed with love, and we rushed into one another’s arms. We kissed and kissed – the feeling was entirely mutual – and then we went to the beach at Victoria Point for a bit of fun on the sand.

Like me, he wasn’t keen to walk in the sea (owing to fifty-million jelly fish at the water’s edge) so we held hands and simply enjoyed looking out to sea at the visiting dolphins. He wasn’t afraid, just sensible; he showed his bravery later when he chased off some large ibis birds. He wanted to impress me – I could tell – and soon I was duly impressed by his athleticism, his love of heights and his great skills of strength and balance.

Surely this Mason is a rarity? He is no ordinary “Worshipful Master” – he doesn’t have a funny little dark blue apron or a light blue apron, for that matter; he doesn’t have a secret handshake and he doesn’t spend lots of evenings out with “the boys”. He doesn’t give a darn about golf or crosswords. He’s not even an old boy…. Perhaps needless to say, my Mason is Roland’s four year old grandson and I love him.