“‘You are joking, aren’t you?’ Tori said. ‘Not at all. He’s coming with me. He’s going to bring all his camera gear. Turn it into a photographic shoot. In case he gets bored.’ She put down the paper. ‘No, the bit that sounds like the joke is that you’re going round to his house at four o’clock in the morning and expect him: a) to be there, b) to be in a fit state to drive to Norfolk birdwatching, and c) to remember the arrangement in the first place and not tell you to fuck off. And a Sunday mor...ning on top of that.’ ‘He’s promised not to go to the pub on Saturday and to get an early night.’ Tori would take some convincing. And, in truth, so would I. ‘I’ve explained that late-night drinking and birdwatching are not comfortable bed-fellows. Well, unless you stay up all night.’ ‘I hope you didn’t tell him that! He’ll stay up all night and end up falling asleep in the reed beds and be eaten by foxes.’ ‘He’s not totally irresponsible, you know.’ ‘No, just partially.’ ‘He’s managed to keep down a fairly respectable job for three years.’ ‘Isn’t that more to do with the fact that he lets his boss use his house for his extra-marital activities?’ ‘Anyway, as I’ve said, you are invited as well.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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