Tigger's Wee-Blog

Spies are everywhere and you can’t know who to trust.  John, the window cleaner, arrived the other day.  I remember him; he has a nice comfortable van and ham sandwiches. Before our Greek interlude, I used to climb into his van and he would share lunch with me. At the time he arrived today, I was supervising the painter finishing off the new cupboards upstairs.   Mr B was out somewhere and F was probably in London.   Neil, the painter, conveniently left the door open to the street and I was able to go out and give John and his van the once over (just to make sure, you know, that it still contained ham sandwiches).   It was the middle of the afternoon and I was advised the ham sandwiches had been consumed so I strolled back in to finish the supervision of painting. Unbeknownst to me Mr B, on his way home, encountered John at another window cleaning job along the street and there was a conversation in which John spilled the beans about me ‘checking on the wind...