London, April 2010.
I suspect my old friend's teenage daughter disapproves of me. She thinks I am a bad influence on her mother, who needs firm guidance. The three of us are in the car, OF driving, me in the front seat, and TD in the back.
OF stops at the roundabout. I point out a duck on the pavement, looking as if it is about to cross the road. We wait. A small queue grows behind us.
"You're not supposed to stop for ducks you know", exclaims TD, exasperated.
A car horn honks. The duck flies off.
Our journey recommences with OF reciting:
What is this life if full of care
We have no time to stand and stare?
So who really gives a .....
If we were waiting for a duck?
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