He smiles cheerfully at me. “Are you ready?”
I blink. “I beg your pardon?”
“Are you ready for our walk?”
I rack my brain, trying to remember making plans. Then I realise that I didn’t. “Why would I be ready for a walk, Laurie?”
His expression is sympathetic but still somehow manages to look like he’s taking the piss. It seems to be a character trait of his. “For fresh air,” he says, slowly enunciating every word.
I roll my eyes. “I’ll open a window if I require that,” I inform him. Normally, I’d shut the door in his face. I have no problem with being rude. Today, for some unknown reason, I just stand here looking at him.
His mouth quirks and he claps his hands together. “Come on then, Mags. The day’s a wasting.”
“I’m not sure that my day was wasting in any form.”
“Were you working?”
“It’s a Saturday. Your day was definitely being wasted. Come on,” he says. “Grab a jacket and your pension book and let’s go for a walk. It’s a lovely day”
“I do not possess a pension book,” I state. “Because I am only a few years older than you.”
“It’s not the age. It’s the mileage,” he says happily. “And those twinks of yours look like they could take a lot out of a person’s tank.”
I want to be angry, and indeed I open my mouth to blast him, but what comes out, to my amazement, is a huge laugh. He watches me, smiling, and when
I’ve finished chuckling, I wink at him. “I have a tank with a great capacity,” I inform him.
“Those who don’t, brag. Get your stuff and hurry up.”