Pottering

Stella had come with me when I'd been to see George, who was hanging out in the shed. I wondered why she'd taken her time on the way back, then spotted that she'd helped herself to some plant pots. 

She was less than delighted when I confiscated them. 

In the afternoon we went to Haddington to get the lad a haircut. After I'd parked the car, I walked straight past George without recognising the tall young man in the barber's seat.