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Bed And Breakfast Man – Madness
Next morning, at eight twenty by the digital clock by the bed, there was a knock on the suite door. ‘Are you decent?’ Madge called.
‘As I’ll ever be,’ I replied.
She came in carrying a mug. ‘I brought you a cuppa,’ she said.
‘If I asked you to marry me, what would you say?’
‘I’d say, don’t be a silly goose.’
‘You’ve got me there. Is that some new street slang?’
She just shook her head and laid the tray down next to my bed. ‘How are the scars of war?’
‘Stinging a bit, but I’ll live. And no bloodstains on the bedding.’
‘Good. Breakfast in half an hour. Don’t be late.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
I was as good as my word and reported for my breakfast half an hour later. She served it up in the breakfast room next to the kitchen in the basement. At least it was
