Serena was not amused. It was 6.30 in the morning, she'd been woken up by some godawful cock crow and all she needed was some lifesaving coffee. She did not need to trip over a thing in her kitchen.
'What the fuck?'
She didn't need to examine it too clearly because a similar thing was standing on the kitchen table. She squinted at it. It squinted belligerently back.
'I'm going to count to five and you'd better be gone' she warned it.
'Chickens can't count' said Bernie, appearing by the back door.
'Why the fuck are there chickens in my kitchen?'
'Our kitchen, darling' Bernie teased.
'Bernie. Remove it. Is this the fucker who woke me up?'
'Probably' said Bernie cheerfully, sweeping it off the table and shooing the entourage out in a flurry of wings.
'Did you let these thugs in?'
'They sort of invited themselves in.'
'I don't prepare dinner that far in advance.'
Bernie smiled, putting the kettle on.
'I was planning on making an omelette for breakfast.'
'Forget breakfast. Dinner. Chicken cassoulet. Which you will make after I have wrung their miserable necks.'
Bernie looked bemused.
'They're not for dinner.'
'Why are they here then?'
'You told me to get eggs.'
Serena stared at her.
'They will have eggs' continued Bernie. 'Very soon once I check the chicken coop.'
'I told you to get a bloody box of eggs not the entire damn chicken. When did you have time to build a chicken coop? I'm not Jamie bloody Oliver.'
'I had a bit of time after you fell asleep last night' said Bernie smugly. 'Less time going to the shops for eggs, more time staying in bed with you.'
Serena groaned. Damn that bottle of Shiraz. She hated to admit it but she couldn't keep up with the wine as much as she used to.
'Happy Friday. Coffee?'
Serena stomped back to bed, muttering threats. Sometimes her wife really did take the piss.