Woman Overboard
EVELYN tutted. Then she tutted again, louder this time. At the third tut the woman in the floaty dress and pashmina turned round. Evelyn looked down to her lap, as though she hadn’t tutted at all.
Roger sighed. Why did she always do that? Either she wanted people to know they were annoying her or she didn’t. He just couldn’t work her out sometimes, more so lately. “She’s not the only one, you know,” Evelyn said.
“Not the only one what, dear?” Roger asked.
“The only one who wants to see the view. She’s got a seat, after all, so why doesn’t she sit in it, instead of standing at the rail and getting in everyone’s way? And the way she waves that silly wraparound, like a flag or something. It’s not her own personal yacht, is it? She’s not
