“Thou shalt have a fishy on a little dishy. Thou shalt have a…” Bill’s loud voice instantly halted when a floorboard creaked and he spun round, beer in hand. Well, this was embarrassing. “Joe?” He called out as he made his way to the entrance of the kitchen and popped his head around the corner. “Oh…” It was Joe’s young wife tip-toeing up the stairs.

He hadn’t seen much off the girl since she had Joe had returned from their little Gretna Green adventure, partly because Bill was frequently away for work during tea, and partly because the girl seemed fond of hiding. “Where’s Joe?”