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Have a Cuppa with Shirley (or Martin)

Hold your horses. I’m not twenty anymore! Can you give me a minute? All right then, who is it? Oh, you again. Looking for Shirley, are you? Well, she’s gone down to Vera’s. Left last week right after your visit and hasn’t come back yet. I don’t know why she ran off like she did. One minute she’s nattering on about spending a quiet evening at home and the next she’s packing her bags and heading for the bus stop. Women.

Well, I suppose you’ll be wanting a cup of tea whilst you’re here. Mind you find a clean cup. Not up to me to be washing up after people. I have plenty to do for myself, I do. The spring’ll be here soon enough, you know, and there’s no one to help get ready for it but me. What’s that you say? No, there’s no sugar. Mind the milk—Emma's been around you know. That one's got a face on her as could shrivel a cow's tit, and the personality to match. Frank's a fool.  What's that? Sour is it? Well I warned you, didn't I? You'll have to pick out the floaters.

John’ll be coming up for a few days. He rang to say he’d be staying in the big house and wasn’t sure he’d have time for a proper visit. He’ll change ‘is mind…been puttering with me in the garden since he was a wee lad.

Well, I’ll tell Shirley you stopped by. Can’t say when she’ll be back. I’m off to mix the compost—shut the door when you go.

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