Fairly Wicked Tales
“the lady said. “I shall be gone for some time, as I expect to pay a visit to some friends while I’m out.” The countryman nodded. “Shall I have tea ready for when you return?” He understood she would reject his offer, for he couldn’t cook if his life depended upon it. Still, offering did no harm. She was a gnarly old bag, but she was his wife. A good husband always endeavors to help, if only to placate the witch he’s wedded to in exchange for a moment’s peace. “No need,” she said. “I’ll most likely eat supper with a friend. There’s bread in the cupboard if you get hungry, and if I know you as well as I think I do, you’ll be bleedin’ ravenous by noon.” She was right; his stomach already rumbled. “Dare I ask which friend you are visiting?” the countryman said. As soon as the question passed his lips he regretted it. Exactly the kind of verbal diarrhoea he tried to avoid, for it often meant a night in the barn with only the pigs and chickens for company.
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