Confessions of a Milkman. Timothy Lea
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knockers and I know that she will soon rise – like something else not a million miles from the back of my fly. Honestly, Percy has fallen very deeply in love with Miss Tromble and is now trying to show his feelings in a brave attempt at a Hitler salute. I lower the feature on Princess Margaret – ‘The little girl who grew up’ – on to my lap – hoping that no harm will come to Her Royal Highness by my so doing – and stand up, pressing Percy back against my tum.
‘Sure you won’t change your mind? You could be in for a spot of fun.’ Another thing I can’t stand about Gunter is that he is very slow to take a hint.
‘No, thanks,’ I say. ‘I’m going to brush up on my milk grades. Good night.’
I nod to the others and stroll out into the hall. There is a notice board there and I pretend to look at a poster about the local hunter trials whilst I wait for Miss Tromble to emerge. I had always thought that peeping Toms were dirty old men in plastic raincoats, not clean-limbed lads like myself. It just shows you that life is full of surprises, doesn’t it?
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