‘Now look here . . .’ I began.
‘Darling, you promised, and if you break your promise I will never speak to you again. I would go myself only I can’t as I’m organizing a fête.’
I sighed.
‘All right, I’ll go,’ I said, ‘but it’s the last time I promise you anything.’
‘Darling, I love you to bits. You’re the most scrumptious man I know.’
‘I’m the most foolish man you know,’ I said.
So I went. I had a hectic journey by train with Moses. I’d forgotten his vodka, so he was in full voice, so much so that the guard of the train, a strict Methodist, had the police waiting for me at Bournemouth Central Station. It took a lot of explaining, but I managed to get some vodka from the dining car and while I was arguing with the guard and the police, Moses sucked up this heavenly nectar as fast as I could pour it. I kept wondering how much alcohol it would take to kill a parrot, and hoping that I had bought enough.