Sandwiches

Leonard bounded in from work on Monday lunchtime, tired and in a rush after his gruelling physio session.

A scene of domestic harmony met him in the sitting room. Leonora and Tata were ensconced together on the sofa, with a blanket over them both, the little crutches were snoozing on the floor, and Leonora's book was lying next to her. Her eyes were shut.

Tata opened her eyes to look at Leonard but really couldn't be bothered to get off the sofa.

Leonard was beginning to think that Leonora spent half her life asleep.

"Hey Leonora!" he shouted, slightly more loudly than necessary.

She opened her eyes and gazed towards the noise. She couldn't see Leonard properly anyway without her glasses so looked at him uncomprehendingly, unable to read his expression. Sighing, she picked up her glasses and put them on.

"Hello Leonard. Nice of you to wake me up," she replied eventually.

"Perhaps you didn't get to sleep early enough last night," he said, pleased with his witticism.

"Perhaps not," she said, and turned to her book.

Oh dear, not a good idea to try and be witty with Leonora when he had just woken her up.

"Good morning?" he asked.

"Yes thanks," she said.

He tried again. "Would you like some lunch?" he asked.

"Yes please," she said.

How did she manage to be so irritating?

"Anything in particular you would like?" - apart from a slap on the legs, he thought.

"Nah, just whatever Mrs Leonard has got in for me, with a plate of salad and some dressing please. There should be some dressing left over from yesterday. If not, I'll come and make it," she called from the sofa, not moving at all.

Leonard thought Leonora was far too picky about her wretched dressing. Everyone else was happy enough with stuff that came out of jars, but not Leonora.

She insisted on home-made dressing every single time. Although she would settle for just wine vinegar and/or lemon juice and extra virgin olive oil, she really preferred a healthy dollop of mustard in there. And not just any old mustard. She wanted Grey Poupon Dijon mustard, whatever the hell that was.

If Leonard had known how to make dressing he would have been tempted to substitute a non-approved brand of mustard to see if she could tell the difference. But he didn't know how to make dressing, and he wasn't sure the very brief entertainment would be worth the hassle of learning to make dressing, and the subsequent grief when Leonora found out that she had been had.

"Oh, and I don't want one of your horrible doorstep sandwiches either," she reminded him.

No Leonora. Anything else Leonora? Salad with dressing. Thin sandwiches. Glass of wine too I suppose.

"Butter or not?" he called. Leonard could never remember whether she had butter on her bread, or in which circumstances she had it.

"Not bothered. But I don't want pretend butter. Or margarine."

Fine. You can do without. Picky flippin' woman.

Leonard chucked the salad onto the plate, slopped some of the left-over dressing on it, and plonked a thin sandwich next to it.

He wandered in with her healthy plate and a huge doorstep sandwich for himself.

"Oh thanks Leonard. That looks really nice." She beamed at him.

He was slightly mollified.

"You're late in aren't you?" she asked.

"Yeah, this later physio session I'm having tends to eat into my lunch break."

"Shame," she said. "Have you got time to make me another sandwich? Oh, and is there a glass of wine to go with it?"

Leonard nearly choked on his doorstep. What a cheek.

He got up to fetch the glass of wine that he had poured and forgotten to take in to her. He decided to make her second sandwich at the same time and carried them back together.

Leonora gazed up at him appreciatively. "Thanks Leonard, you really can be awfully nice sometimes."

Leonard felt guilty for thinking bad thoughts about her.

"Don't even think about it, got to get something for me anyway," he muttered. "Gotta dash in a minute though. See you this evening."

"Oh," she said sadly. "Didn't realise you wouldn't have time to chat or anything."

Leonard was perplexed. But he didn't have time to follow up Leonora's offer for a chat.

"Come on Tata, let's have a quick run round the garden before I shoot off back to work."

Tata carefully walked over Leonora and elegantly stepped down, wondering if Leonard was really going to run round the garden, or if he was just referring to her. She wasn't sure she felt like running after her lazy morning on the sofa with Leonora, but a few sniffs and pees would be good.

Leonora turned to the little crutches. "He's not very chatty today is he?" she said.

"No, Leonora, but he looked a bit tired, and if he doesn't have much time, I don't suppose he wants to get distracted and end up late back to work," they said.

"I didn't think I said anything to upset him," said Leonora. "I tried to be polite and appreciative of my lunch."

"Of course Leonora," they chimed in unison.

"You are always polite," said the first little crutch.

"And appreciative too," added the second one not wishing to be outdone.

Leonora looked at them both dubiously. "Always?" she asked.

"Well, nearly always," they said, deciding honesty was the best policy.

"Hmmm," she said. "Well anyway, what shall we do this afternoon?"

"Nothing?" suggested the first little crutch.

"Reading?" suggested the second one.

"Ruff ruff ruff," barked Tata assertively as she bounded in after her amble round the garden, and letting the little crutches know exactly who was in charge.

"Sounds like you are going to be busy playing tugs this afternoon Leonora," laughed Leonard, following in behind Tata.

"Really must go now. See you." And off he went.

Tata wandered over to her toy box and carefully selected a toy for the tugs, and dropped it on the sofa next to Leonora.