Untied

Wendy Argent unravels a knotty problem.
IT’LL have to be the ducks today,’ he murmurs, setting out his clothes on the bed. As he picks up the blue tie, I realise that what I had previously seen as its cream splodgy pattern is in fact rows of ducks, white with yellow beaks, pairs and singles, relaxing in between rows of daffodils. The next day it is daisies; a tiny design, which could easily be mistaken for spots. Has it been chosen with such care in order to co-ordinate with the shirt and jacket? A swift glance at the complete ensemble is all that is necessary to dismiss that theory.

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