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the revealing confidences! And quite frankly, that's probably where you made your big mistake ...calling her Belly. Don't you know she's highly touchy about the subject. Secretes herself away in the office, door locked, huffing and puffing away doing sit-ups and crunches and what looked suspiciously like planking. I didn't have the heart to tell her that's gone out of fashion now.'

'If the doors locked, how do you know that's what she's doing?' asked Cyril in alarm, imagining her entertaining another man.

'We spied through the window. Annabelle in lycra!' Eeeeeehhhhh!' Trixie shuddered.

'So ....you don't think there's another man in her life then?'

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wondered if this was the start of a beautiful relationship.

Meanwhile, Bertie was pacing up and down the road, still waiting for the AA to turn up or the tyre to be returned. He was not a happy chappie. In fact, this was far from being the case. He could be seen muttering away angrily and gesticulating wildly from time to time. If any carpet had been available, he would have been chewing on it. That not being the case, he had to make do with ...

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the end of a stubby grubby little brown pencil.

He was not concentrating so he didn't notice Wilf Cantdoit from 'arrys autos arrive.

'Wotcha Guvnor moi noim's Wilf..contrary to the surnoim oi really can do it if yer get me..where's the loidy ? Moi gaffer said a toisty gal rang in distress abaht the auto and 'ere I am to ' elp.'

Edited by itsmeagain
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'Well may you ask!! Took off with the flattie and some smooth talking poser and hasn't been seen or heard of since!'

'Well moite,' chuckled Wilf, giving Bertie a hearty clap on the back, 'this 'ere vee-hickle aint goin' nowhere wiv only two wheels now is it? Can'tcha giv 'er a tinkle on the ol' trombone?'

'What???Trombone??? Whatever gives you the impression I'd be carrying a spare trombone on my person? An emergency horn in case of an unexpected malfunction? A little bit of light brass band music to fill in those dull moments on the road, perhaps??'

Bertie's patience was at the end of it's tether, the rope was looking decidedly frayed and his sarcasm was escalating.

Edited by poppy
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drizzle down icily.

'Can't understand a word you're saying. Why can't you chaps speak intelligible English? Mobile, cell phone, even communications device, all perfectly acceptable and widely understood words. But no, you bombard me with your ridiculous Cockney vulgarisms!'

Now Wilf was a peaceloving, affable kind of geezer, always ready with a joke and up for a laugh, but this was even too much for him. He upped and ...

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giv yorself a 'eart attack and 'igh blud preshhar gettin' all adger-matated loike?'

'My phone's dead flat,' said Bertie in an equally deadflat voice.

'Not a probleemo moite, just giv us 'er number and oile giv 'er a tinkle on moine.'

But before he could get through ...

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in fine form they were! A bottle of wine had quickly broken any ice between them and if it hadn't been for the garage ringing to say the tyre was fixed, they'd have cracked open a second and then goodness knows what might have happened.

Bertie stood glowering at the pair and sulked for the rest of the evening.

In no time at all, ...

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goodbyes were said and Wilf Cantdoit drove away but Cyril Bauble pleaded with Trixie to ring him as soon as she safely gets to London.

One benefit of their encounter was that Cyril charged up Trixie's phone.

The phone sprung into life

'If you don't give me a convincing report there will be big trouble', declared Annabelle tersely.

Edited by itsmeagain
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'No problem. Will report in on our return. But one thing you need to consider, if you want to prevent this from happening again, you will need to provide us with a more reliable form of transport.' And Trixie hung up. 'Put that in your pipe and smoke it!'

The trip back would have been in silence if it wasn't for the Satnav giving unreliable instructions (which Bertie completely ignored), Trixie humming away happily to herself ( something sounding suspiciously like Barbie Girl) and ...

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Trixie's girlie giggles each time a text came through from Mr Bauble. The phone announced it in the form of a song, singing 'Thumbelina dance, Thumbelina sing, this is a text from Cyril , so answer, or he'll ring.'

Seething, Bertie asked

'How's the boyfriend these days?'

Edited by itsmeagain
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'Boyfriend?' asked Trixie dreamily. 'Oh, him! We broke up simply ages ago.'

'What do you mean, 'ages ago'?? You were only talking about him yesterday!'

'Really? It feels like months. Ever since I met Cyril, I've realised the true meaning of the word 'love'. Don't you think he's just wonderful? A complete dreamboat.'

'Have you let whatshisname know yet?'

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Rocky 'Bogan'Stone was the bodybuilding freak who used to share his evenings with Trixie, at least when not down at the dog track.

'It may wait.Cyril is such a delightful man.'

'You've even had the audacity to date a vile football thug, Gus Despicable. Since you must know where he lives why did you fail to redirect me 98 miles when the disgraceful satnav sent me awry?'

Edited by itsmeagain
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'I thought he must have shifted! After all it's years since I've seen him and I never went to his, he always came to mine.'

'A likely story, you just wanted to skive off for the day and play that dratted Poke-him game or whatever it's called.'

'Besides it wasn't all wasted, I caught a Clefable and they're one of the hardest to get ....and I met Cyril,' said Trixie all starry eyed.

'Well, you'll be meeting Annabelle soon, and then ...

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read her latest text from Cyril-babe, as she now insisted on calling him, and overshot MacDonalds, KFC and Burger King. She pulled into Dodgy Denny's Diner, a grotty looking establishment making all the former places look like five star restaurants.

'I'm not eating here, Trixie, even Annabelle is preferable to botulism!'

'Gosh you're cranky, Bertie. All you've done is moan all day! My day has been simply ...

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