Gwinny spotted me, then immediately pretended he hadn’t. Apparently, he was just casually passing through on important ginger business. Unfortunately, Gwinny, your acting skills are about as convincing as your claims that nobody ever feeds you.

Good evening, Gwinny. Your usual table by the back door?

Good morning, Baron Breakfast of Bowlhampton

Eventually, he drank his milk as a chaser to a licky lix

Here comes the orange eating machine

Have you come to eat breakfast or wake the neighbours?

There’s a small orange face at the door. I suspect he’s come to discuss the appalling lack of dairy provision in this establishment.

I see the neighbourhood stomach has arrived

Morning Gwinny “You do realise this isn't an all-inclusive resort?”

The evening dairy department is now open. Unfortunately, I’m the entire workforce.

“Oh, here comes the orange bailiff to repossess his dinner!”

Just a ginger face full of expectation and the unmistakable attitude of a disgruntled hotel guest whose all-inclusive breakfast buffet has failed to open on time.

Another evening and the ginger freeloader has remembered exactly which house has the milk.

“Evening, you ginger gravy guzzler!”

Some cats arrive. Gwinny announces

Here he is — the CEO of Second Dinners.

He’s here. He’s ginger. He has demands.

I’ve apparently been summoned to my second job at the milk bar.