Ian came back from the shops. He'd obviously been spending his winnings.
Sparkling T-shirt? I said I thought it looked a bit poofy (doncha just love political correctness) but he said nah, that's what men wear these days. A coupla new shirts, a waistcoat and - a trilby-type hat. I was taken by the titfer and said it was very Nathon Detroit.
Not much sign of him since. He was supposed to fetch Kaz to help with housework, clean windows and stuff before the Missus gets back. Huh!
He breezes in around 7 pm.
"I can't pick Mum up tomorrow. I'll send a taxi to the airport, instead. I'll pay. Kaz? No time. Next week."
He breezed off with again with some other dame I ain't seen before. Or should that be doll?
As for me?
8 pm and I'm only just starting on the windows. I don't see much chance of sleeping tonight. I have all the decorator's mess to clear up tout de seule or whatever the French words are.
B**r me, I'm f**d, probably.