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'I was addressing Johnny, boys, getting money out of him is like prising open an oyster. Any advance on £10 will have to be negotiated with him,' ...and she left me to it.

The boys, although still in their teens, were quite bulky and sizable, especially when they closed in and surrounded you. Anyone would feel intimidated. There was really one thing I could do ...

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Posted (edited)

and so I promised 14 quid each if they gave the garden a good old fashioned hosing, so, immediately,  the boys proceeded to hose the entire place. Only

Edited by itsmeagain
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trouble was, they didn't think to close any windows or doors. I went off to the office to do a bit of paperwork which necessitated a pot of tea, a large mug and a packet of gingernut biscuits. I'd just started my fourth mug, barely time to relax ( the story of my life), when I noticed a puddle of water making its way under the closed and locked door(I don't like to be disturbed when I was hard at it).

The morons had flooded the whole floor.

'Right, that's it! ' I bellowed, ...

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immediately rang Pastor Cross to lay a long list of complaints against his obnoxious little pillocks.

"Good morrow, friend. I am presently out and about doing God's business. To paraphrase, 'For we are His workmanship, created for good works.' Ephesians 2:10.' Please leave a message after the beep."

I'd like to tell him where to stick his &*^% beep but unfortunately...

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I thought better of it......Rosie received a text from ' daddy' saying that he was in hospital for ' tests on my lungs' and asking why she never rang him an ambulance. 

Meanwhile Dingle the cat was eating the 

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aspidistra plant, Rosie's pride and joy. I shooed him away and he moved onto gnawing on a table leg. It was starting to look worse for wear, I feared he'd gnaw right through and the whole thing would come crashing down on top of him. He really was a trial. I had a sudden brainstorm, 'Rosie, what Daddy needs is something to keep him company, take his mind off himself ... cheer him up no end.'

'What a lovely idea, what do you suggest, dear?'

'Well, I thought one of the cats. We've been so blessed with them, I think we should find it in our hearts to share the joy. Dingle would be an ideal companion for Daddy.'

'Well ... OK ... if you really think ...'

'I do! I do!' I enthused, 'I'll just ...

Edited by poppy
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put in motion the process.'

Sending Dingle round to daddy's abode, by express courier service, was happily met by daddy exclaiming, ' by Jove, another delightful feline courtesy of my dear son in law John Forbidden..how blessed am I', and at that, he stroked 

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Dingle, who immediately bit him painfully on the thumb.  Dingle then took off up the Major's whatnot, sending valuable ornaments crashing to the floor, one Dresden shepherdess hitting Daddy on the head, knocking him clean out. Dingle remained perched precariously on top of the whatnot, yowling loudly.

Little Miss Horlicks, the Major's next door neighbour had heard the ruckus and came to investigate. A confirmed spinster, of indeterminate years, she loved cats. Ignoring the Major completely, who was moaning and groaning on the floor surrounded by broken crockery, she reached up ...

 

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and took poor Dingle in other arms, whisking him away to her own abode, where Dingle will this evening be spoon-fed clotted cream plus essence of re heated tuna, then pork scratchings as pudding.  He....

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knew when he was onto a good thing and henceforth behaved impeccably, living a life of luxury and treated like an adored princeling. 

Meantime, the Major was awoken from his semi-conscious state by the incessant ringing of the phone.

'Hello Daddy, it's me,' said a cheerful voice, 'just ringing to see how our little Dingle is settling in. It really played on our heartstrings to part with him but we felt you ...

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needed a hearty feline companion...'

'Spiffing, utterly so....absolutely charming what what..keep it going daddy', I said, yelling it from close to Rosalyn.

'By Jove, old girl, I have no memory of kitty this and that  but someone clanged me on the bonce with a bladdy frying pan...

 

Edited by itsmeagain
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... who are you again?'

'It's Rosie, Daddy. Your daughter Rosie.'

'I have a daughter? Are you sure? I don't remember any daughter.'

'Dementia!' I said, 'I knew it was coming. He needs to go into a home. I hope you've got power of attorney, Rosie, it'll make things ..'

'Shush, Johnny!' Rosie glared at me. 'Of course you remember me,  Daddy. I think I should ...

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sally over, post haste, in order to ensure we are on the same page..oh daddy stop getting yourself in such a state..we sent black and white 😺 Dingle to see you also to keep you company..so if you're not going to admit what's going on then I am on my way over....and daddy..put the kettle.....

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on, I'll need a strong cup of tea by the time i get there.'

'I think I should accompany you, dear.' I offered. 'You'll need help controlling your father, the state he's in!'

'No, Johnny. You'll only antagonise him, you know how you are. I'll check how he is and then we can decide what to do.'

But when Rosie arrived at the Majors, the door was locked and there was no answer to her knocking. 

She decided to see if his neighbour had seen anything. Miss Horlicks ...

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said she hasn't seen dear old colonel wink winks for 4 months, a day he helped her in with her Tesco shopping. 

'Major Flowers actually ', opined Rosalyn.

''Everyone here only calls him Colonel wink winks since he's forever ogling anything female of all shapes and..'

'Not seen my dad...you haven't seen our black and white, Dingle the pussy, have you?'

'No I cannot say I have', and at that...

 

Edited by itsmeagain
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Posted (edited)

she firmly shut the door.

Rosie was just about to leave when she spotted a black and white cat sitting on Miss Horlick's window sill, washing the remains of Kitty Kuisine, salmon flavoured, from her right paw. He looked remarkably like Dingle.

'The old biddy!' Rosie exclaimed, and knocked furiously on her door again.

When Miss Horlicks answered the door, winding her way around her ankles was ...

Edited by poppy
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Posted (edited)

her very own dearest Dingle, who greeted mummy fondly. 'That..is our Dingle', cried Rosie, passion ignited by the audacity of Miss Horlicks.

'I definitely and do hereby; categorically assert this kitty is my own, name of Rombald..here Rommy..chicken leg..here', at which the kitty grabbed the greasy fried bird limb and ate with gusto,

Edited by itsmeagain
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spitting out the bones skillfully.

 'Here Dingle, come to Mummy,' coaxed Rosie in her most wheedling voice. But he ignored her completely. 

'How long have you had Rombald?' asked Rosie suspiciously.

'Oh, for years!' Miss Horlicks replied confidently, 'We're inseparable.'

Rosie decided that since he looked well cared for and he'd always proved a challenge at the cafe, Dingle was safe in Miss Horlick's hands, however much of a fibber she was.

She was just preparing to head for home, when she saw a movement in Daddy's ...

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window. An elderly lady, sprightly and nimble of foot, was rearranging ornaments on the sideboard. Rosie went to the door. No reply. It got to the point where Rosie knocked on the window and the old woman blithely waved at her , then turned to her cleaning, duster in hand, blue apron on.

'Where's daddy?

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Rosie rapped on the window again and beckoned to the lady.

She bustled over and opened the window, 'I'm already saved, I don't need a new vacuum cleaner and I donate by mail.' She shut the window again.

'This is getting ridiculous!  Daddy could be lying dead or dying and I can't  get in to see him.' She had a sudden thought, 'Johnny can pick locks, heavens knows where he picked that up, it's most out of character but I'll give him a call.'

I reluctantantly...

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Posted (edited)

went over, but my lock picking skills failed me. In the end, Rosie shouted 'this ..is police officer Makebelieve. Open the door please.'

Ever subservient, the old lady opened the door. 

'Officer Bakemyleaf I wasn't expecting you til Tuesday otherwise I'd have baked a cake.'

'Is daddy OK..?'

Muffled groans coming from the cellar door meant someone was either in pain..or something. 

'Who goes there?', I demanded.

My ear pressed to the (locked ] cellar door, I distinctly heard cries of 'more..more' and Rosie opined ' he must be listening to a play..anime or comi drama..'

' In the cellar?', I asked.

'Anyway he's busy..I am Margaret Twiddlepass by the w@y', declared Mrs Twiddlepass, 

 

Edited by itsmeagain
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... a name to conjure with, indeed.

'I'm Roslyn Flowers, the Major's daughter, and I demand to see Daddy now! This instance! Make it snappy!'

'Darling, she looks about ninety, snappy probably isn't in her skill set,' I said in an aside.

But Rosie ignored me. 'When I say snappy, I expect a bit of hustle and bustle! Come along!'

'Very well, then, if you insist,' sighed Mrs Twiddlepass, 'but I did warn you. He's busy.' She lead the way to ...

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the cellar, inserted a long, bony key, and led us both into a dingy cellar. 

'Oh..how spiffing...here you both are at last...nothing like excellent timekeeping, what what...now I am just watching a film about the ..errrr..the advent of modern opera on British TV screens..'

A TV blared out old music listlessly in the corner of the badly lit cellar.

By now convinced daddy is mad, Rosie and I went upstairs and brought daddy a nice cup of hot strong tea.

' Well how utterly spiffing...have you met...

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Mrs Widdleblast ...Piddlelard... Fiddlegas? My new factorum, don't you know, what.'

'I thought it best to keep him safe down here,' explained Mrs Twiddlepass, 'he was wandering round with a shotgun claiming a cat had gone berserk with a frying pan.'

'Sconed me, the sewer! Broke me best Spode chafing dish. I'll get the blighter, see if I don't!  Hand me me gun!'

Mrs Twiddlepass rolled her eyes, 'He's off again.'

'Darling, I think it's time we called in ...

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