Don’t you just hate those furniture salesmen who latch onto you the moment you step through the door? I do. At the weekend, we decide to shop for a  sofa, a wardrobe and a small table – this last for our daughter’s new house. With these three objectives in mind, we drive to the nearest out-of-town furniture stores. There is a clutch of them not far from our village. Walking into the first store we are greeted by three, suited gentlemen, standing in a triangle, amongst the tastefully displayed suites. “Men in Black” springs immediately to mind (minus the sunglasses). The nearest chap to the door recognizes us and comes…