Vesna McMaster – Knife

 ‘She gouged out his eye with a butter knife?’

‘A plastic one.’

Jeannie sipped on her tea. ‘Were there no metal ones to hand?’ She replaced her cup in her saucer with a small chink.

‘Perhaps she enjoyed the challenge.’

‘Hm. Care for a white chocolate almond? They’re very good.’

‘Oh, thank you, yes…So did you finish the backyard renovations? I heard you were doing some mosaics.’

‘Yes, they’re done. All concreted over. Couldn’t leave that sort of stuff lying around, of course. We have a nice patio and gazebo now, very solid.’

‘Oh, you went all out. I normally go for a wheelbarrow to the ends of the cliff and straight into the briny. So lazy.’

‘Nothing wrong with expedience. It was an artistic flourish, really.’

‘Talking of which, how’s that ukulele band coming along?’

‘A bit slow, to be honest. The median age is 123 and the skill levels low.’

Sue looked at her over her china cup. ‘I thought you’d…Anyway, have you thought of looking for members from outside the Order?’

‘Eh, what’s the point? One has to be so careful, it’s hardly worth the effort.’

‘And you used to be so full of the thrill of the chase.’

‘Oh, come on. There’s only so far Omega three supplements get you. Once you get to a certain age…stage…you pick your battles.’

Sue cocked her head. ‘I notice the neighbour’s dog is very quiet. Not barking any more?’

‘It picked its battles.’

Sue looked round the table. ‘Plastic spoons all gone?’