We go back in for a cup of tea before heading off to Canham to catch the 3.15 to Heathrow. I wish we’d thought of that yesterday. It’s just that I had everything precision-planned.
‘There are some dogs that are real personalities,’ Dan is saying. ‘Bonzo was one and Dusty was another. Digger’s an insipid dog really. His personality consists of jumping in the air with all four legs and barking.’
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Dan, who has always mocked Dusty for being working class, while his dog, Digger, is of noble breeding. Dan, who has hitherto dismissed Dusty for being insipid, just because she lies under the table rather than be boffed by Digger.
Why do people always wait until you’re dead before they can say something nice about you?