Sharing a table with a party of five in a pub near the river, the man and woman closest to me eye up my friend's halloumi and lentil salad. We all agree that it looks tasty and I decide to make use of the rapport that we have established over Cypriot cheese and pulses.
The man is sitting next to me and is my first choice. He shakes his head in disappointment. He doesn't have one. I ask why. He tells me he didn't come out the way he should have. His parents were expecting a girl and had a name fully prepared, including a middle. When he emerged, to their surprise, both the parents and the name were caught short.
By the time he has told me his story, news of my project has spread round the group. The woman on the other side of the table offers hers. When I ask whether it is with or without a 'y' she says without but points at another member of the group who shares the name but not the spelling. They want to know the purpose of my question and make me promise that they will be included. A fourth member of the party notes that I haven't asked for hers. I do. Her companions are excited by her answer.
The fifth and final member's middle name remains unasked and ungiven.
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