After two years and 2000 plus visits, The Staff are used to finding dead offerings at clients’ houses but a recent experience still has them chuckling. I wish they’d get over it – it’s beginning to get annoying – but I thought I’d share it with you nonetheless.
The story begins with two lovely regular clients – Smokey and Cookie. Cookie is very shy and is usually hiding under the bed. Smokey, on the other hand, is very friendly… to humans. To the local mouse population she’s The Terminator in a furry coat.
On the first day she was lying with her head under the sofa and no amount of coaxing would bring her out. Sure enough, on the second morning, The Staff found a little mouse corpse.
That evening, Smokey and Cookie’s usual servant, Clare, messaged to let The Staff know that her brother-in-law, Clayton, and his son, Thomas, would be arriving that night to stay for a couple of days.
Next morning, the visitors were still in bed when The Staff arrived. And there on the kitchen floor was another dispatched mouse. They cooed over it sadly for a few minutes, because they’re soppy like that, before disposing of it.
In the evening, Clayton and Thomas arrived back as The Staff were preparing supper for Cookie and Smokey, and they told them about the dead mouse. Dad and son looked at each other and Clayton said, “You’ll never guess what happened to us today!”
They’d set off to go into London again for the day, starting with a 20 minute walk to the station, followed by a 30 minute train journey (there is a point to all this detail – honest!). They walked around Covent Garden and Leicester Square, then ended up in a restaurant in Piccadilly.
Clayton took off his coat and was about to sit down, when the waitress, her eyes wide in horror, said, “Um, excuse me sir, but do you know there’s a mouse sitting on your shoulder?” Sure enough, as he glanced to his left, he found himself staring into the eyes of a small rodent.
By now everyone in the restaurant was looking at him. “I didn’t know what to do,” he said. “I couldn’t bat it off my shoulder in the restaurant because it would have been running around causing mayhem. So I took it outside and let it go in the street!”
What an adventure for the little fellow! (the mouse, not Clayton). Not only does he escape Smokey’s usually fatal clutches, he goes on a train journey and a sightseeing trip to London. I wonder if he’ll find his way home to Surbiton?