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Rose turned round from her salad preparations. "For goodness' sake Clem, why don't you just go down to the Golf Club for a pint with Bob?" she chided, although gently, in her usual way. I felt myself smiling as I took a good, long look at my beautiful partner. Lustrous red hair (admittedly tinted, but weren't we all a bit grey nowadays?), low cut fashionable rugby shirt which only a girl of Hannah's age or a woman with plenty of sex appeal at Rose's age could wear well and figure-hugging jeans. Any wrinkles she had were definitely laughter-lines and her greeny-blue eyes regarded me as they always did – with an exasperated fondness, underpinned by a deep loving. "I'm being a bit of a nuisance, aren't I?" I said sheepishly, with the slight shrug and little-boy-lost look which Rose found endearing. Most of the time anyway.
"Yes, you are, Dad." Hannah interjected. "They might not be here for another hour at least. It'll be all right, I said it would. Daniel's cool." "And they're coming from different directions, so there's plenty of time for you to go and have that pint, Clem." said Rose. "Now – off you go and let us do our womanly work, toiling away in the master's kitchen." Hannah gave a mock snort of derision, although she grinned at Rose's joke.