It is all about how you impart bad tidings, I suppose, like the wife who told her husband one night, after the first drink: ‘The good news, darling, is that the airbag definitely works.’
Mrs Oakley and I have not only a grandson and five grand-daughters but also a grand-dog, Myla, who comes to stay when south London pressures build and our daughter reckons it time for the four-legged member of her troupe to take to the country. ‘You never really liked that Turkish carpet, did you?’ said Mrs O. one evening recently. It turned out that Myla, lying comfortably in front of the fire, had decided that our prized Istanbul purchase would look better without the tasselled fringe. I hope it tasted good.
Jump trainers tell me regularly that the worst thing about their job is having to call owners with bad news about their horses.
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