“Edward, please stop. This isn’t right,” I whispered.
“Oh, just one more, all right?”
But when he remarked in an audible tone that he spied something morbidly obese that was going to be dead in two years of congestive heart failure, I reached my limit.
“That’s enough. Get out!” I spun around, seething and gritting my teeth. “Just get out of here! These people have done nothing to you! You are behaving like a madman!”
Again, he looked rather offended. “Well,” he sniffed. “I spy with my little eye something that looks remarkably like a humourless cunt.”
I was about to respond with great fury when I noticed Mr Chapel, holding the box of food and sundries I had requested. By the look on his face I knew he had witnessed most of the bizarre scene. His nephew stood behind him, wearing a simi
