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So I replied, not particularly enthusiastically, ‘You are not a cat either,’ and chucked my phone in the bag ready to go to my next store. Before I’d even reached my car a message came through, ‘How do you know?’ Not in the mood for playing games I snapped back, ‘Because a cat would never make the first move!’ Then I got in the car and started the engine. Next message came immediately again, ‘Guess you’ve never seen Red Dwarf then?’ The conversation continued with him telling me he was bored and me suggesting a bunch of things he could do, all of which he made excuses as to why he couldn’t until eventually I lost my temper and told him to go and have a wank if he was that bored. Weirdly that didn’t seem to offend him and our conversations continued over the next few weeks with me finding him less annoying and more interesting as the days went on. I found myself increasingly looking forward to speaking to him each day, he wasn’t like a lot of the other guys on the site, he didn’t. Griselda pushed me deep into the internal pocket between the cleft of her massive breasts. She fastened the mouth of the outer pocket tight with its ribbon drawstring. ‘You should be safe there,’ she whispered again in her loud voice, ‘and I hope I can protect you. If I can’t, no one can.’ As she finished that utterance she walked swiftly from the room. Unable to see anything through the white material of her apron and buffeted by her massive globes either side of my carapaced body I had no notion of where she might be taking me. The sounds of clattering pans, much louder than the bells of a great English cathedral, announced our arrival in the kitchen. I felt Griselda unfasten and remove her apron and then I was swiftly transported, still imprisoned in the apron’s pocket, to another. ‘Amelia! Put this on!’ Griselda ordered briskly. ‘Be very careful! He’s in the pocket.’ I was pressed against Amelia’s bosom. Even through the material I could distinguish two things, one pleasant, one.
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