Wensley was warm and comfortable and neat, and Brian was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. Something twitched in his abdomen, which he chose to ignore in favour of giving his friend one final squeeze as they stepped apart. He felt really, really good.

A Wensleydale was a good thing to have around, he decided. No matter how mad things got, Wens made things a bit more sensible. He made a bloody good pudding, too, although the relevance of that thought was questionable.