Norman organised a collection for Natalie (and her hapless beau, of course) today. As a test, we counted how much money was in the envelope before we put it on Stuart’s desk, and then again after he gave it back, snigger, snigger. He wrote a touching message on the card, touching for him, anyway, but guess how much that wealthy man had contributed to his daughter’s present from his workplace. Nothing, of course. I think whatever present she gets from her father’s work is going to be an embarrassment. We’ll barely have enough to reimburse Norman for the card.
I ‘unrelatedly’ asked Stuart later if he ever felt emotions. He said of course, mainly impatience and irritation.
Still no Ductile when I arrived home tonight. Maybe she’s gone off in search of Agnes or Agnes has kidnapped her against her will. (Can you be kidnapped not against your will?). Now I think of it, Malleable and Ductile were great names for a dog and a cat, but now that Malleable is gone, Ductile sounds a bit, I don’t know, stupid.