My hubby lives five hours away.

That’s five hours of driving — long enough to make arguing over the TV remote as remote as he is. I’ve done the trip so many times I know every decent coffee shop and loo with toilet paper stop. 

It’s the sort of distance where the thrill of conjugal rights rises, then falls somewhere around Crianlarich (a third of the way in). By the time I’ve made it halfway through the latest P.G. Woodhouse audiobook, I’m lucky if I’m up for a walk, let alone anything else.

I arrived after hours of beautiful scenery, crashed up the stairs —side-stepping the clutter —dumped my whatever on the mile-high bed…and there it was, the seagull peering in like I’d brought a picnic.

It hobbled about the roof, eyes fixed on my unpacking. Then, realising there was nothing but underwear and a tube of lubricant well past its best-before date, it flew off with a squawk that had me leaping higher than I did when I swam over a crab the size of a toastie.

Still twitching, I staggered into the sunlight and made for the beach, clutching my buy-six-and-the-seventh-is-free cappuccino. 

And there he was, giving me what looked like an I’m about to nosedive glare.

Maybe I should avoid the double espresso at Crianlarich next time.

So let’s recap

The Red Cross Shop and The Codpiece have hit George's early years, where he meets Beatrice for the first time. 

George has not only suffered the humiliation of crashing his bike in front of Beatrice, but his shirt ripping open, exposing a 3D 48 GG pair of tits-tattooed in henna across his chest.

Will he go back to wash her car? 

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