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Dear God it's dreadful out there. This damned rain hasn't stopped for over two months! Anyone would think we live in the tropics!

 

Ahh! Good morning Mrs. Quin. Oh I say! You're soaked through!

 

Good morning indeed, Mr. Baily... What on Earth is going on? Even, Bowsley here has had enough and he's supposed to be a water dog! I had to drag the bugger out the door this morning and as you can imagine, once he parks it's hell of a job to budge him. Great-big-oaf. 

 

Ahh! Yes indeed, Mrs. Quin, but you love him dearly... Everybody loves Bowsley

 

Bowsley slumps to the floor in a big, black, mountainous heap, drenching the outside across the wooden floorboards.

 

I thought those Newfoundlands were supposed to be waterproof, Mrs. Quin. Look at him! It's like a bloody swimming pool in here!

 

Well, they are, as in the wet doesn't get to their skin,: unlike mine...  but they still get soaked.

Anyway... I don't suppose any veg has arrived, has it? I mean, Mr. Baily, we havn't had so much as a carrot pass our lips in weeks!

 

Didn't you hear the news on the radio, Mrs. Quin,? Apparently it's going to piddle down again all week! And what's more, Mr. Pointer up on Brooks Farm, popped in on his way up to the cattle market an hour ago and said everything underground has gone to rot. Everything has drowned by all accounts. 

 

I havn't had time! What with Ed still laid-up with his back and all the chores around the place... And this rain! I can't dry anything outside and nor can we afford to just chuck more logs on... I mean, this is all getting out of hand. 

Tell ya what, Mrs.Quin, I'll pop by later on, after I close shop like, and pick up ya washing... We have big ole tumble dryer out back, I'll bung it in there for you. I mean, we can't have you and poor Ed, walking about naked now, can we...

 

Mrs. Quin smiled. Oh, you are a love. Heaven knows we could all do with more people like you about, Mr Baily. 

 

Mrs. Quin, please,.. call me John. 

 

Mrs. Quin stood bolt upright and looked at Mr.Baily straight in the eye and said. Mr. Baily, how is your wife these days? We havn't seen her about in quite a while.

 

Mr. Baily coughed and opened the till. You know she took ill last week? 

 

I do, yes. Isn't she back from hospital yet? I thought you said she would only be in for a couple days and that the infection was all in hand?

 

Well it is in hand, Mrs. Quin, but you see, she... now, how do I put this... she's buggered off! 

 

Buggered off! Buggered off Where?

 

I don't know, Mrs. Q... Do you mind if I call you Marg? 

 

Margorie Quin took to chewing the 'home-made'  little lump on the inside of her mouth. She made it herself over the years. A nervous gnawing took hold when she felt unsure about things ever since she was a little girl. She did have it looked at once but the doctor just laughed and said' Well at least it's hidden.'

 

As a matter of fact, MR BAILY! Yes I do! 

 

Come, come now Marg... we have know each other for years! What harm can it do?

 

I'd appreciate it if you kept your familiaries to yourself. Oh! And  about the washing... I'll chuck another log on.

Goodbye!