Boisterous Weather Ahead

"Perhaps," said Mr Boxe, "we can tell her that we won it. We could say it was a prize. In the Lucky Dip at the church fête."

"My dear Boxe," said Mr Foxe, "let us get home first, and then meet the consequences as they arise."

"She might not notice," said Mr Boxe, "if we paint it in less vivid colors. Or drape it in a very large shawl?"

"I intend to enjoy the crossing," said Mr Foxe. "Why not air your anxieties with a nice stroll around the deck? Tell all to the gulls."

"She said we were not to. She said, mincing no words, that we were not under any circumstances to buy an ocean-going steamer. If we re-christen her the Josephine, would she be flattered? Would that help, do you think?"

"I am off to the saloon," said Mr Foxe. "To play nautical airs on the piano."

"How are you be so bloody calm?" screamed Mr Boxe.

"Because, my dear," said Mr Foxe, "I am forest-born with a heart of oak. And also I am absolutely stinking drunk."

Dedicated to the memory of Liz Marley, my friend across the sea. Je me souviens toujours de toi.