"Richard Bouquet, you are not going to 'sit down with a book' now!" Hyacinth's cutting voice rang out in their comfortable home in the Avenue.
"Hyacinth, I just spent the afternoon cooking, going along with the sing-along to cover up Bruce and Violet's fight, and putting out a fire. I'm tired and I just want to read my new library book," Richard said in a rush.
"I do hope you're not going to make a habit of raising your voice," Hyacinth answered acidly. "And it is precisely that of which I want to speak to you. Sit down at once."
She gestured imperiously to the kitchen table, a weary husband obeying her at once. He knew what was coming, and while he partially hated himself for his cowardice in refusing to have this ridiculous conversation, his head was aching and he just wanted it to be over.
"You embarrassed me greatly today," Hyacinth sniffed. "Shouting at me instead of defending me was very un-husbandly behavior. That man was taking my phone call! My call was urgent!"
Something in Richard snapped. Again. His next words seemed to spill out on their own volition, and he didn't check them. He'd spent years being the obedient, compliant husband. No more! Not about this!
"That man had the right to make that call, Hyacinth. It's a public telephone booth. And you wasted more time throwing a fit and making an absolute fool of both of us than if you had waited! Now, I've tried to be patient with your ridiculous schemes but I won't tolerate sheer rudeness. Yelling and pounding on the phone booth was rudeness!"
The silence that ensued was deafening. Hyacinth gaped at Richard, who had to suppress a laugh as he irreverently thought she looked like a fish trying to breathe on land. Her brown eyes were as cold as steel.
"Well! Of all the things to say to your own wife!" she said in a voice that ended in a whine, pouting like a spoiled child. "You may get your own dinner tonight, Richard, because I'm not making dinner for an ungrateful husband."
Richard grinned, earning a look of shock from Hyacinth, who obviously expected him to be disappointed. Without a word, he marched into the hall and picked up the white, slimline telephone with last-number redial. A fuming Hyacinth heard his end of the muffled conversation.
"Hullo. Onslow? Feel like going out to the pub tonight for a round of beer and some food?...Great...At O'Sullivan's? Yes, I can be there in fifteen minutes. I'm leaving right now. See you soon!"
"Richard! Richard Bouquet! I will not have you going into such a low establishment! I'm sure you can pull something together for yourself here!" Hyacinth shouted as soon as she heard the click of the telephone being put into the receiver.
Her only answer was the front door closing.
"Of all the rudeness," she muttered to herself. "He doesn't listen! How does he not listen?"