Nadia regards me a moment before speaking.
‘Are you a banana?’ she asks.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Are you a banana?’ she asks again, with no hesitation and not a hint of a smile.
‘No,’ I say, ‘I am not a banana.’
‘Right,’ she says, ‘good. That’s good.’
She pauses a moment, as though deep in thought.
‘What if you thought you were a banana? Would that make you a banana?’
‘No,’ I say, ‘I would be a human who thinks she’s a banana.’
‘Okay, good to know,’ says Nadia, like I’ve just given her the answer to a puzzle that’s been bothering her for ages.