Mr Twiddle was going out. He said to his wife, “I’m just going to the post office, my dear. I have to send this letter to Cousin George.”
“Very well, Mr Twiddle,” said his wife. “But don’t forget to take the letter with you. And don’t stop to talk to anyone on the way. You know how you always get mixed up when you do that.”
“Yes, yes, Mrs Twiddle,” said Mr Twiddle. “I won’t forget the letter. And I won’t talk to anyone. I’ll be back soon.”
He put on his hat and coat and took the letter from the table. He went out of the door and down the garden path. He was feeling very pleased with himself. He was going to do something useful for once.
But as he reached the gate, he saw his neighbour, Mr Brown, coming towards him. Mr Brown was a friendly man who liked to chat. He waved to Mr Twiddle and called out, “Good morning, Mr Twiddle. Where are you off to?”
Mr Twiddle remembered what his wife had said. He didn’t want to talk to Mr Brown. He wanted to go to the post office. But he didn’t want to be rude either. So he smiled and said, “Good morning, Mr Brown. I’m just going to the post office. I have to send this letter to Cousin George.”
“Ah, Cousin George,” said Mr Brown. “How is he? I haven’t seen him for ages. He used to live in the village, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did,” said Mr Twiddle. “But he moved to the city a few years ago. He has a big job there. He works for the government, you know.”
“Really?” said Mr Brown. “That’s very impressive. What does he do for the government?”
Mr Twiddle didn’t know. He had never asked Cousin George what he did. He only knew that he was very important and busy. He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t know. So he made up something. He said, “He’s a spy, Mr Brown. A secret agent. He goes on dangerous missions all over the world.”
“A spy?” said Mr Brown, wide-eyed. “A secret agent? That’s amazing, Mr Twiddle. You must be very proud of him.”
“Yes, I am,” said Mr Twiddle, feeling rather pleased with his lie. “He’s a very clever and brave man. He can speak ten languages, you know. And he can fly a plane and drive a car and ride a horse and swim like a fish.”
“Wow,” said Mr Brown. “He sounds like a hero, Mr Twiddle. You must have some exciting stories to tell about him.”
Mr Twiddle didn’t have any stories to tell. He had never seen Cousin George do anything exciting. He had only seen him sitting in a chair and reading a book. But he didn’t want to disappoint Mr Brown. So he made up some more stories. He said, “Oh, yes, Mr Brown. I have plenty of stories to tell. Like the time he saved the queen from a gang of robbers. Or the time he stopped a bomb from exploding in the parliament. Or the time he caught a spy who was trying to steal the crown jewels.”
“Goodness me,” said Mr Brown. “Those are amazing stories, Mr Twiddle. You should write a book about them. I’m sure it would be a bestseller.”
“Maybe I will, Mr Brown,” said Mr Twiddle, feeling very proud of himself. “Maybe I will.”
He forgot all about the letter he had to send. He forgot all about the post office. He forgot all about his wife. He only remembered his wonderful stories. He told them to Mr Brown, one after another. He made them more and more fantastic. He said that Cousin George had fought a dragon, climbed a mountain, and flown to the moon.
Mr Brown listened to him with awe and admiration. He believed every word. He thought that Mr Twiddle was the most interesting man he had ever met. He said, “Mr Twiddle, you are a genius. You have the most amazing imagination. You should be a writer, not a spy.”
Mr Twiddle was very flattered. He said, “Thank you, Mr Brown. You are very kind. Maybe I will be a writer. Maybe I will be famous.”
They talked and talked and talked. They didn’t notice the time passing. They didn’t notice the sun setting. They didn’t notice the stars coming out. They didn’t notice Mrs Twiddle coming out of the house, looking for her husband.
She saw him at the gate, talking to Mr Brown. She was very angry. She marched up to him and said, “Mr Twiddle, what are you doing? You said you were going to the post office. You said you had to send this letter to Cousin George. Where is the letter?”
Mr Twiddle looked at her in surprise. He had forgotten all about the letter. He had forgotten all about Cousin George. He had forgotten all about the post office. He said, “The letter? The letter? Oh, dear, where is the letter?”
He searched his pockets. He searched his hat. He searched his coat. He couldn’t find the letter. He had lost it somewhere. He said, “Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear. I’ve lost the letter. I’ve lost the letter to Cousin George.”
Mrs Twiddle was furious. She said, “You’ve lost the letter? You’ve lost the letter to Cousin George? How could you be so careless, Mr Twiddle? How could you be so stupid?”
She scolded him and scolded him and scolded him. She told him what a silly old man he was. She told him what a bad husband he was. She told him what a trouble he was.
Mr Twiddle felt very sorry for himself. He said, “I’m sorry, Mrs Twiddle. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose the letter. I didn’t mean to forget the post office. I didn’t mean to talk to Mr Brown. I only wanted to do something useful for once.”
He looked at Mr Brown, hoping for some sympathy. But Mr Brown was not sympathetic. He was shocked and disappointed. He said, “Mr Twiddle, you lied to me. You lied to me about Cousin George. You lied to me about his adventures. You lied to me about his job. He’s not a spy. He’s not a hero. He’s not a genius. He’s just a boring man who works for the government.”
He felt very cheated. He felt very angry. He said, “Mr Twiddle, you are a liar. You are a liar and a fraud. You are not a genius. You are not a writer. You are not a friend. You are a nuisance.”
He turned his back on Mr Twiddle and walked away. He didn’t want to talk to him ever again. He didn’t want to listen to his stories ever again. He didn’t want to see his face ever again.
Mr Twiddle was very sad. He had lost his letter. He had lost his friend. He had lost his pride. He said, “Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear. What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?”
He hung his head and followed his wife into the house. He knew he was in trouble. He knew he was in big trouble. He knew he was in the biggest trouble of his life. then mrs twiddle phone a taxi she said