Provocation.

She was doing it again this evening – the ‘oo-oo’ woman. There I was, sitting in my garden as the dusk was draping its peace across the distant landscape. A wood pigeon cooed gently from a nearby tree. I’d hosed the garden earlier, and the warm, still air smelt damp. As I sank willingly into a gentle reverie, it started.

‘Oo-oo.’

It was like being splashed with icy water when you’re just falling asleep. I gave in to a base instinct. I yelled in her direction.

‘Will you shut up for God’s sake, you bloody irritating woman!’

There was a high hedge and two hundred yards of field between us, and so I didn’t think she’d heard. But she stopped.

I felt... churlish.

Oh, well.