Wednesday 25 April 2012

Cam and Sam face the crisis...

It's gone midnight in the Costwolds. A bedside light goes on.

" ‎"Sam? Sam darling. Wake up. Look, things are beginning to look just a tinsy bit hairy.You know I said at Bekkah's party that I didn't have a chatterooni with old Murdy. Look, I know we agreed that of course some things are secret and out of bounds and beyond the boundary and all that? and that I would never tell any porkypies? But I did say, I know, don't be hard on me darling, but I did say that I didn't talk to the Murdies...but in actual fact. o god, I did. Yes, and you see, I do know the price of a bottle of milk darling but that's not what I'm talking about here, you see Jeremy is in the doodoo too. I'm not the only one. It really is beginning to look as if Huntface wasn't a bad nickname for him, eh? eh? Oh look don't look at me like that, you know, I think I might ring up Noman, Norman Tebbitt. I need a cool hand on the tiller right now, darling. You couldn't make me my fave cup of hot chockie could you? Look, the bloomin bloody sodding Murdies have started publishing Huntface's emails, darling. Don't you see? As they would say, we're bloody buggered. Oh I know it's not nice, darling. But none of it's nice. If ever I meet that Nick Davies chap I'm going to do that thing they say in the east end. I'm going to chin him. Yes, that's what I'll do. Did you make me that hot chokkie? Mummy used to do that for me when I struggled with my semi-deponent verbs. Latin darling. Latin. Gove is dealing with that. One day, everyone will speak Latin. And then it'll all be nice again. All nice. All nice. Nice. Nicey nice. Nicey nicey...hmmmm"

The bedside light is turned off.