97 cooing Sam Vimes
97. Cooing
Vimes was uncomfortable. He’d never liked green spaces much, and while he was more than willing to take Young Sam for a walk around Hide Park, he would have preferred to do it without strangers staring and whispering the whole time.
He glanced at the nearest ones- two women, sat on a bench and not being particularly subtle about watching him. He turned, ready to start shouting.
“Is there a problem, ladies?”
They blinked. “…No?” one of them said. “We were just saying how nice it is to see a man of your standing spending time with his son.”
“What?” said Vimes.
“Well,” said the other lady, “you must be so busy with the Watch, it’s amazing you can even find the time.”
“Madam, I make time,” Vimes said, not quite sure whether to take offence.
“How lovely! And he’s such a sweet little boy too, such a credit to you.” The ladies waved at Young Sam, who was much happier to be fussed over than his father was. Vimes very nearly relaxed, until he heard his son returning to one of his favourite subjects.
“-and then Uncle Havelock’s doggie did a enormous poo!”
As the ladies abruptly stopped cooing over the little boy they’d previously thought was so cute, Vimes finally figured out a use for all the greenery- because actually, it would have been quite nice to hide behind it. Possibly forever.


















