“Show me where the box was buried.”
I led him out to the garden. “Just there” I pointed to the centre of the rose patch.
“Right,” he said, tramping his way to the point I'd indicated. “Here?”
“Mind my roses,” I exclaimed.
“Bugger your roses, they'll grow back. Was it here?”
“Over to your left. Yes, there.”
“Ah yes, I feel it.” He picked a rose and turned to face the house. He began to stride towards the back door, counting under his breath. “One, two, three” arriving at “Seven!”
