Bernie handed me the sealed envolope without saying a word, but he gave me a funny look.
It had 'MR GEORGE TURNER' written in purple felt tip in the centre. With trembling hands (for I knew who used the colour purple) I tore open the Basildon Bond.
I suppose you know the baby is yours. What are you going to do about it? We need to talk.
Meet me at the back of the mortuary tomorrow evening, 9.30 (when it gets dark)
A
SHOCK. I am in deep shock. Surely I cannot be the father? We used 'safe-sex'. Didn't we? Well, at least on one occasion. Besides, I know for a fact that I am not the only one to have received 'sex therapy' from Amanda.
My mind is in a turmoil - which, I am sure, is not good for my mental health.
What am I going to do?
1 comment:
Run, dear boy! Make a break for it. Escape! Grab the Swedish tart and head for Scandinavia......once there, you can buy a pointy hat and masquerade as a troll. They'll never find you!
Post a Comment