Ten

H's lunch with my brother in law went on until 7 o'clock in the evening, at which point he arrived home glazed, grumpy, and gibbering.

I suspected too much booze, but H said that even Great King Abstemious of Teetotallerland would seek refuge in a bottle of Shiraz, if he'd had to listen to Vernon banging on about dominoes for hours.

'Never mind dominoes', I said. 'Did you find out if he's having an affair or not?'

'I'm not sure. I kept tuning out and dropping off. I woke up dribbling at one point, not that he noticed. But he did mention something about a Marjorie. Or maybe Melanie. Morag? Someone at the dominoes anyway. Actually, he mentioned her more than once.'

'So? Do you think they're getting it together?'

'Unless she's utterly desperate, I shouldn't think they're getting anything together....except their respective blank ends,' he said, and immediately fell into a red wine coma.

It may have been a euphemism. I'm never too sure....

Per insidias densatur, as Hercule Poirot might have said. (Though he'd have said it in French......)