So I spent a very enjoyable week between Christmas and New Year hanging around in Moore River with Boxer Girl, One-Eye and their gang. Their crew, if you will. It was a lovely and very relaxing week. There was nothing else to do except go to the beach, take the kayaks up the river, lie around in the afternoon reading and then sip delicately upon a beverage or two in the evening. It was all very civilised.
Except for the constant sniping between Boxer Girl and One-Eye, which was the week's entertainment. There was The Incident of the Used Fork Dropped in the Seafood Sauce, and the Strange Case of the Impromptu Perth Cup Sweep Won by One-Eye. I'm saying there was tension in the room. An atmosphere of sorts. Not the same sort of atmosphere as when One-Eye's husband went to the loo and didn't open the back door, but an atmosphere nevertheless.
Luckily the evening always ended with Baileys, and they could never stay mad at each other when there was Baileys in the offing.
On my last day we all trooped off to the beach. I stayed for a swim and a bit of a chat and then wrapped my towel around me, gave everyone a kiss goodbye and was on my way. As I climbed the steps to the car park, I could hear querulous voices behind me. I turned around and called out to the truculent two, "How appropriate that the last thing I hear is you two bickering at each other."
Then I ran, before they both turned on me.