"Your cat has claimed the baby's cot," Greg pointed out, casually.
"MY cat? Barnaby's YOUR cat, Darling," Molly said, as she sidled up next to him, draping an arm around his waist. She smiled as Greg wrapped an arm around her, and snuzzled her temple.
"I'm not talking about Barnaby. I'm talking about Toby," he said, matter of factly. "He's always liked confined spaces. Barnaby likes to stretch out, but Toby likes to be contained."
Molly sighed as Greg gently guided her towards the sofa. "I suppose… more than once I've had to improvise when he's commandeered the basin. He fills it up, he's always done that. Oh Greg, I just don't have the HEART to evict him."
Greg smiled to himself, thinking of all the times since Molly moved in with Toby that he had decided to go to work unshaven because Toby had claimed loo territory.
Donovan had smirked at him, thinking he'd simply been too "occupied" with Molly to have the time to shave. Greg let her think that. What did it matter to him, anyway?
Anderson had been more understanding. He'd noticed the ginger and silver hairs on Greg's clothes, and owning a cat himself who liked small spaces, had concluded, correctly, what was REALLY going on.
"Has he taken over baby's cot yet?" Phillip asked, benignly.