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I reversed out through the kitchen door to a chorus of exaggerated Byeeeeeees from the two women in my life. Yes, a drink would be good – it'd settle my nerves if nothing else. I crossed through the living room into the adjoining den, pausing only to pour myself a scotch from the well-stocked drinks cabinet. I had no intention of going into my study, I had another plan. I ran my finger along the several volumes of photograph albums on one of the upper shelves of the tall den bookcase, selected the right one and pulled it down. I blew the dust off, eliciting an indignant snuffly sneeze from Ridley, my Chocolate Labrador who was, as ever, sprawled across the battered old couch. "Sorry fella," I muttered absently, patting him on the head. "No, no don't get up – I'll sit over here, shall I?"
As I sat down in the patched old armchair opposite the couch, Ridley, oblivious to the sarcasm in his master's voice, yawned expansively and settled himself even further down into the couch cover, having had no intention whatsoever of getting up. He'd had his morning run, that was it now until late afternoon as far as he was concerned.