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Marrying Off Mother: And Other Stories

Page 20

by Gerald Durrell


  ‘Now look here . . .’ I began.

  ‘Darling, you promised, and if you break your promise I will never speak to you again. I would go myself only I can’t as I’m organizing a fête.’

  I sighed.

  ‘All right, I’ll go,’ I said, ‘but it’s the last time I promise you anything.’

  ‘Darling, I love you to bits. You’re the most scrumptious man I know.’

  ‘I’m the most foolish man you know,’ I said.

  So I went. I had a hectic journey by train with Moses. I’d forgotten his vodka, so he was in full voice, so much so that the guard of the train, a strict Methodist, had the police waiting for me at Bournemouth Central Station. It took a lot of explaining, but I managed to get some vodka from the dining car and while I was arguing with the guard and the police, Moses sucked up this heavenly nectar as fast as I could pour it. I kept wondering how much alcohol it would take to kill a parrot, and hoping that I had bought enough.

 

 

 


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