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Have a
cuppa with Shirley (or Martin) |
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Well now, I’ve been expecting you for the past couple of days. Couldn’t you have stopped in sooner? I need a hand moving things into the new shop. You know, the place in the village. Oh, you hadn’t heard? Well, I’ve done so well selling my bits and bobs here that I thought I’d open a shop of my own on the High Street. Martin thinks I’m daft, that it’s all toot, but I have a few bits that might bring in the odd quid. If not, I’ll do it for a laugh. We’re in need of one these days, you know. Have you heard about old Mr. Dinnell? The queer old gentleman who came calling during the storm? Emma found him dead in the dining room. She was up early one morning, a few days after he’d arrived, and went downstairs to have a bite to eat, and there he was stiff as a board, sitting at the table. He’d been gone for a while, poor man. No one knows for sure when, but certainly he hadn’t been there the night before. It was terribly sad. He was a nice old bloke. Just goes to show, you never know when your time comes, do you? Never mind. We all thought Mr. Tinsley's time was coming, years too soon, but he pulled through and seems to be quite himself again. He's been strutting around here like the cat that's swallowed the canary lately. I don't know what he's up to, but whatever it is, he's proud of himself. Did you hear that they'd found a portrait of Miss Fanny? Christie's has it. They want Miss Ann to buy it. I don't want that thing in the house. After all the trouble she's caused. I get a chill up my spine just thinking about having to look at her every day. It's not right, is it? But Miss Ann will do as she pleases. It's not my place to tell her how to spend her money, is it? I'll not dust the thing though. I won't.
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