I was wondering where to place lunch with Phoebe’s literary friends amongst the Plagues of Ancient Egypt. Better than every new-born in the land being slain, undoubtedly, but worse than an infestation of frogs. And probably not as bad, I had to admit, as humankind being covered in festering boils. Still, I couldn’t help thinking that if Moses had to deal with the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse plundering his larder on top of his other travails, he would have led the Children of Israel off to the Promised Land a good deal sooner.