I am reading a dreadfully shocking book about murderers, and have just discovered to my delighted horror that one of them actually came here on holiday to Bowness for his holidays. It wasn’t very long ago either, and in fact he had his holiday and went home and was arrested pretty much as soon as he walked in through his front door, because of shooting somebody a few weeks before.
Imagine, a murderer coming here, he could have murdered somebody here. Our police are jolly good but fairly inexperienced at detecting murderers, it would have taken them ages to catch one.
Fortunately he wasn’t murdering people when he came here, just having a holiday, probably he was too busy having a go on the steamer boat and visiting the Peter Rabbit Exhibition to murder anybody here. He might even have got in my taxi, although I don’t really think he did, because there is a photograph of him in the book, and he had one eye made of black glass, which tends to be the sort of thing you remember. I am quite sure that even in my most distracted moments I would have noticed a one eyed murderer in the taxi.
I got the book out of the library, because I have finished the David Cameron Story, maybe Jeremy Corbyn will write one soon as well, although it might take him a while because he didn’t even get round to filling in his tax return last year, never mind writing thousands of words of exciting autobiographical prose. I am not sure it will be as shocking as David Cameron’s anyway, but it would be interesting to read, although not a patch on one eyed murderers who might once have got in my taxi.
It is rather nice to be peacefully on the taxi rank with some time to read. I came down at five o’clock this evening because Lucy was starting work early and needed a lift, and it has been a very long day.
It has been a long day because it started rather earlier than usual. We were awake and I obliged Mark to get up and get on with the day rather than hanging about drinking repeat cups of coffee. This was because we have had the huge excitement of a new shop opening in the village. The shop that was once Morrisons has become a Sainsburys, and I wanted to go and try it out.
We went to have a look even before the Library Gardens, because they have been hammering and banging for a fortnight now, and we wanted to see what they had been doing.
Inside it was all very beautiful and streamlined and clean, I went off Morrisons a bit after somebody pooed on the floor once: but you would hardly know that this was the same place.
The thing was that despite it being beautiful and shiny, they didn’t sell a single thing that I thought I might like to buy. I was not impressed with this and told the manager exactly what I thought about it on the way out. They didn’t have any interesting bread, or exciting cheese, or novelty fruit and vegetables, only dull things like Cheddar that I could buy just as well in the Co-op. The manager was very polite and thanked me for my feedback, so I shall go back next week and see if they have changed anything.
Instead I went to Booths, and stupidly took Lucy with me, which cost me an absolute fortune on very exciting food indeed. I had to buy chocolate flavoured brioche and some peculiar breakfast cereal that I don’t imagine for a minute that anybody will eat, and mini rolls and Rice Krispie Bars. and toffee popcorn because she and Oliver are planning to have an extra-long session watching Attack On Titan after work tonight.
I was so busy trying to keep an eye on the expensive stuff she was flinging gaily into the trolley that I forgot milk and sausages and it still cost me a hundred pounds. I have not mentioned this to Mark, who favours dull and cheap, especially when he sees the bank balance. Also we are supposed to be saving up for some things that we need tomorrow and now we are flat broke again, actually rather more than flat broke and in a bit of a financial depression.
It is a jolly good job I have come to work early. Maybe I will make my fortune.
I shall also have a jolly good close look at any dodgy looking passengers. I don’t want to pick up any murderers.
