TWELVE
THE FISH WIFE, THE POLICE SUPERINTENDENT
Lunch consisted of cold Hampshire, free range sausage sandwiches for Aedd’s guests, and a kind of carnal sustenance for Georgie and Pimple. They resumed the gathering after what for Georgie was too short a break, which left her wondering if Pimple would ever master the art of sustained synchronisation.
Mrs Fish was now incongruously dressed and seeming oblivious of the fact, in Aedd’s grey nylon track suit bottoms, prudently clipped at the bottom with Pimple’s reflector cycle clips. The amended ensemble simply did not co-ordinate…
My God, I have embraced my female pseudonym…
… the shiny artificial fabric of the shell-suit trousers, clashed inordinately with the Fish silk blouse, the buttoned cardigan of the twin set and pearls ensemble.
