Double rose

When Mr G's late partner was still alive, he found a rose with her name - Gwyneth - and planted it in the garden. Yesterday her daughter visited us and Mr G picked her one of her mum's roses and to the delight of all of us, it turned out to be the first double-centred rose the bush had ever produced. Beautiful, and the scent is lovely, delicate and fragrant.

Next door's Houdini cat, the one that manages to escape despite all their efforts to keep her in, is a frequent visitor to Mr G's house (I can't call it 'our' house due to his constant firm reminders that it's 'his'). Thing is, you never know where she will turn up. I was sitting quietly, reading the Sunday papers, when I heard a rustling sound. There she was, curled up in the heap of plastic bags beside the fridge!