*

…If Tee’s study was the hub of intelligence, then Miss Hunnyfludd’s office, which comprised no more than a hastily compromised ante-chamber to its plush superior, was the heart…

Thomas Welch was currently making himself at home in the heart of operations and musing about his latest exploits in the name of service…

‘…hub-ub…hub-ub…hub-ub…’

It was not, upon reflection, the most distinguished of performances from our number one agent.

“They’re already referring to it as The Big Stone Head Affair, Tommy,” said Hunnyfludd disarmingly.

“Oh, they are, are they, Hunnyfludd, and who, precisely, might I ask, are ‘they’?” Welch smiled sardonically and raised a secretly famous eyebrow.

“Why, those in the know, of course, Tommy, those in the know,” smiled back Hunnyfludd, equally sardonically for she enjoyed their little contretemps.

“Then we await with baited breath to see what The Moon will make of it, something infinitely cruder and more phallic, no doubt,” said Welch, moving that bit closer to Hunnyfludd’s desk.

Continue reading at : Green grow the rushes O III…