I forgot about the gardener

It's 9 o'clock in the morning and the buzzer rings.
'Hello?' I say through the house intercom.
'Hello' comes a voice from the lobby.
'Can I help you?'
'I've come to do your garden.'
'Oh. We don't need that, thanks. Er, we've got someone coming tomorrow.'
'Have you?'
'Yes, we've got a gardener thanks.'
'I think it's me. It's Glastonbury here.'
'Oh! It's you! You're the gardener!'
'Yes. I've come to do the garden.'
'Oh! Are you not coming tomorrow?'
'No.'
'It's not tomorrow then?'
'No. It's today.'

By midday Glastonbury has gone strangely quiet.
I ask Shark and Tiger to creep into the garden room and peer out the window to see if Glastonbury is actually in the garden or whether he has had enough and sloped off down the King's Arms for a pint.

'He's still there' announces Shark.
'What is he doing?' I ask.
'Waving his bottom in the air' answers Shark.

So there you have it. Today we pay the gardener to surprise us all.