‘Well, it comes to something when the best
you can all say about my new career is that it’s
better than hauling chicken carcasses around the
inside of an aircraft hangar,’ I said.
‘Well, you could always get fit in the meantime
and go and do some of your personal training
stuff with Patrick here.’
‘Get fit. Thanks, Dad.’ I had been about to
reach for another potato, and now changed my
mind.
‘Well, why not?’ Mum looked as if she might
actually sit down – everyone paused briefly, but
no, she was up again, helping Granddad to some
gravy. ‘It might be worth bearing in mind for the
future. You’ve certainly got the gift of the gab.’
‘She has the gift of the flab.’ Dad snorted.
‘I’ve just got myself a job,’ I said. ‘Paying
more than the last one too, if you don’t mind.’
‘But it is only temporary,’ Patrick interjected.
‘Your Dad’s right. You might want to start getting
in shape while you do it. You could be a
good personal trainer, if you put in a bit of effort.’
‘I don’t want to be a personal trainer. I don’t
fancy … all that … bouncing.’ I mouthed an insult
at Patrick, who grinned.
‘What Lou wants is a job where she can put
her feet up and watch daytime telly while feeding
old Ironside there through a straw,’ said
Treena.
‘Yes. Because rearranging limp dahlias into
buckets of water requires so much physical and
mental effort, doesn’t it, Treen?’
‘We’re teasing you, love.’ Dad raised his mug
of tea. ‘It’s great that you’ve got a job. We’re
proud of you already. And I bet you, once you
slide those feet of yours under the table at the big
house those buggers won’t want to get rid of
you.’
‘Bugger,’ said Thomas.
‘Not me,’ said Dad, chewing, before Mum
could say a thing
‘Well, it comes to something when the bestyou can all say about my new career is that it’sbetter than hauling chicken carcasses around theinside of an aircraft hangar,’ I said.‘Well, you could always get fit in the meantimeand go and do some of your personal trainingstuff with Patrick here.’‘Get fit. Thanks, Dad.’ I had been about toreach for another potato, and now changed mymind.‘Well, why not?’ Mum looked as if she mightactually sit down – everyone paused briefly, butno, she was up again, helping Granddad to somegravy. ‘It might be worth bearing in mind for thefuture. You’ve certainly got the gift of the gab.’‘She has the gift of the flab.’ Dad snorted.‘I’ve just got myself a job,’ I said. ‘Payingmore than the last one too, if you don’t mind.’‘But it is only temporary,’ Patrick interjected.‘Your Dad’s right. You might want to start gettingin shape while you do it. You could be agood personal trainer, if you put in a bit of effort.’‘I don’t want to be a personal trainer. I don’tfancy … all that … bouncing.’ I mouthed an insultat Patrick, who grinned.‘What Lou wants is a job where she can puther feet up and watch daytime telly while feedingold Ironside there through a straw,’ saidTreena.‘Yes. Because rearranging limp dahlias intobuckets of water requires so much physical andmental effort, doesn’t it, Treen?’‘We’re teasing you, love.’ Dad raised his mugof tea. ‘It’s great that you’ve got a job. We’reproud of you already. And I bet you, once youslide those feet of yours under the table at the bighouse those buggers won’t want to get rid ofyou.’‘Bugger,’ said Thomas.‘Not me,’ said Dad, chewing, before Mumcould say a thing
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