Tomcat Tompkins – 55

This novel is something a little different for me. It is a satire set in the UK at the present moment. There are striking parallels between these days and the 1930s. There’s a lot of racist people around who are crawling out of the woodwork as they have been encouraged by the implications of the Brexit vote.

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“Must have been a big pigeon to deliver such a long message, Tomcat” said Miss Scarlett.

“It was, Trevor is a big lad, I believe his owner fed him steroids when he was a squab, so that Trev could make it across The English Channel carrying small packages.”

“Sounds illegal,” giggled Miss Scarlett.

“Hardly, it’s the police we’re talking about, the boys in blue, the upholders of our laws, not some drug smuggling gang importing narcotics and bypassing the customs officers of our great country.”

“How silly of me to connect the police and crime in that way.”

“Absolutely, couldn’t be further from the truth.”

The conversation slowed as their main courses arrived. Tompkins repeated his starter of a large Chateaubriand Steak with potatoes, carrots, and gravy. Miss Scarlett had sole meuniere served with brown butter sauce, parsley, and lemon. They also quaffed a bottle of Blanquette de Limoux to celebrate the success of the previous evening.

Once Tompkins had finished his steak, he closed his eyes and savoured the last mouthful. “That should last me two hours until I have afternoon tea at Aunt Jemima’s. She has the most delicious cakes.”

“When should I contact you for the details of my assignment?” asked Miss Scarlett.

“I will send pigeons out later today, so you can send Bertie to me and I’ll attach the instructions to him and send him back pronto,” replied Tompkins.

“Thank you for being so decisive Tomcat; we always receive strong leadership from you,” replied Miss S, daintily eating the last of her sole. Then she placed her cutlery in the shape of an ‘X’ on the plate.

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