Betty has stopped folding the ends of my loo rolls into Vs.
I don’t think she liked it when I asked her to clean under the sofas and I think that might be the cause of her discontent. I gave her a bottle of Christian Dior’s Tendre Poison ‘Deodorant Fraicheur’ as an olive branch and she seemed happy about that because for a week or so the Vs returned. Time has passed however and the loo rolls once again lack their happy endings.
Is it possible that she has discovered the translation of ‘Poison’ – she speaks no English – and has taken offence? Or is she now wanting more perfume? Chanel next time perhaps. She has seen it on my dresser. I can’t part with my 1.2 Fl oz of No.5. But then needs must.
Perfume-giving is an unsustainable carrot.
Julio, my erstwhile Ecuadorian cleaner and suspected mule of contraband, never folded the loo rolls and that was fine. You can’t miss what you never had. Is it better to have had one’s loo roll folded and to have it folded no longer than never to have had it folded at all?
This whole affair is profoundly perplexing so it is just as well that we are returning to Belsize Park, where I have no loo-roll expectations.