Gertrude was by now, starting to realize her error but couldn’t help herself observing, “Surely Bertie, you don’t really have the build for a pole-vaulter and never did, from what I can remember.”
He blundered on regardless, “No, ah, um…, we had a Polish chap called Borys in our dorm’ and we used to tie him between two beds and vault over him. Huge Hugo was a pretty good vaulter too but his mutton dagger kept getting tangled up in his pyjamas and two times out of three, he would fall right on top of poor Borys, our trusty Pole.”
Bertram had started to wear his I’m-doing-very-hard-mental-arithmetic look again. “Strangely enough, though, come to think of it, Hugo came out as being a gay chap a few years back. Nothing wrong with that, of course. Thank god for gay guys, that’s what I say. Most of them are so good looking and have excellent dress-sense, you see. If they were in the market for girls, the rest of us wouldn’t get a look-in!” He blundered on. “We also had a Russian chap in our dorm’. His father was a big noise at the Russian Embassy in London and so he boarded his son at our school. Mikhail… What was his surname? Ah yes, Mikhail Titoff, that was it! He was a jolly good egg as I remember. His wife, Henrietta, has recently had a booming success with her thriller novel, The Babe’s Revenge.“
Gertrude frowned and then smiled, “The Babe’s Revenge by Henrietta Titoff? You couldn’t bloody-well write this stuff!”
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