Divorced and Deadly

by Josephine Cox

  With that frantic image in my mind, even I began to titter. ‘I’ve never heard a dog trump like that before,’ I told him.

  ‘I have! He did it once before, and almost blew a hole in Mum’s sofa.’ Dickie was laughing so hard he could hardly talk, ‘I bet Nancy Cruddle could let one off to beat it though!’

  I tried hard not to laugh, but it was no good and now the pair of us were screeching and crying.

  ‘CLEAR OFF OUTTA MY SHOP DOORWAY…YOU’RE FRIGHTENING THE CUSTOMERS!’

  The shopkeeper was a big fella, with a face like a punctured pumpkin, ‘GO ON THEN! CLEAR ORF OUT OF IT!’

  Dragging ourselves up from the ground, we made a hasty retreat. ‘Did he really almost blow a hole in your mum’s sofa?’ I couldn’t imagine that.

  ‘Two actually…there’s one dent at the front of the sofa and another at the back.’ He was doubled up and hardly able to speak, ‘We’re not allowed to talk about it, especially in company!’

  Back at the fish and chip shop, we found Antonio out on the pavement.

  ‘Lost something, have you?’ I asked.

  ‘No. But I’ma looking.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘There’s a terrible, horrible stinka come up,’ he said, holding his nose. ‘If I don’ta find where it’sa coming from, they’ll shut me down.’

  It’s just as well he didn’t see us falling about with laughter, as we crawled up the stairs.

  WHAT A DAY!

  And there was more to come.

  BEDFORD

  MARCH, SATURDAY

  Dear diary, I’m beginning to see daylight at last! Today is the first Saturday of March.

  The decorating is all finished, with only a few minor accidents and the one time I had to ring the emergencies for Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants. I kept telling him not to interfere with the wonky light switch, but would he listen? No he would not. His girlish screams set all the local dogs barking, his hair stood up on end, and his pants were scorched. He’s a walking disaster! To hear him screaming you’d have thought he was a goner, but he wasn’t badly hurt, due to the fact that he’d just taken the dogmuck out for a walk, and still had his rubber wellies on.

  Yesterday we had to buy a new washing machine because he overloaded the old one, which then gave up the ghost and literally collapsed.

  ‘We were lucky they could deliver it this morning.’ Peering out from the back of the machine, I waved my spanner at him, ‘And if you hadn’t dropped the damned thing on the delivery man’s foot, he might have been able to install it, instead of being hauled off to hospital with three broken toes and dented shoes. And now I can’t even get this damned thing to work!’

  ‘It’s not my fault.’

  ‘So, whose fault is it then?’

  ‘His!’

  ‘And how d’you make that out?’

  ‘He should have never let his mate go off early.’

  ‘That was because his mate had a call saying his wife had a scare over her pregnancy and was being rushed to hospital.’

  ‘So, do you think it might have been better if I hadn’t offered to help?’ Dickie asked.

  ‘Well done, you’ve got it in one!’

  ‘I had no choice. There was nobody else! Especially as you were having your wicked way with Nancy Cruddle.’

  ‘I’ll have you know…I was not having my wicked way with her.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘We were making plans…wedding plans, as if you didn’t know.’ We were supposed to meet up later tonight, but I’m stuck here aren’t I, because thanks to you, I’m landed with the job of plumbing in this damned washing machine!’

  ‘You’re made to marry Nancy Cruddle.’ Dickie said.

  ‘Hey! Don’t start that again, you’re as bad as my mother!’

  ‘Yes, well, for once she’s right.’

  ‘Don’t change the subject. We were talking about you and your latest mishap.’

  ‘What mishap?’

  ‘Crippling the poor delivery man.’

  ‘Not my fault!’

  In a way I felt sorry for him, ‘Okay, I’m sure you don’t create chaos on purpose. But to be honest, I’ve got no idea what I’m supposed to be doing with this thing.’ Truth told, I was beginning to panic, ‘There are so many pipes and things…I’m not really sure what goes where.’

  ‘D’you want me to have a go?’

  ‘Er…no. Best not, eh?’

  ‘You don’t think I’m capable, do you?’

  ‘Well, let’s just say, I’m just kinda beginning to fathom it out.’ Crikey! Who knows what would happen if I let him loose on it?

  In the short time since we moved into the flat, everything that could go wrong has gone wrong! Dickie’s already gone through the ceiling twice. Another time he tripped over a loose wire and went flying forwards, and if the window hadn’t stopped him, he would have ended up splattered on the pavement.

  As it was, he smashed three panes in the window, shattered the frame and cut his arm so badly he had to have fourteen stitches.

  For the next half hour I struggled with that wretched machine, and the harder I tried, the worse it got. ‘Look! There’s a pipe flapping about!’ Dickie Manse screamed. ‘The water’s shooting all over the place…get a plumber!’

  ‘Shut up will you!’ I was past caring by now. ‘Catch the damned thing! Go on! Squeeze the ends together!’

  ‘I can’t! It’s gone mad!’ By now the pipe was flapping about, shooting jets of water all over the place.

  Soaked to the skin, I gave him a shove, ‘Get out of the way, you’re worse than useless! Where’s the stopcock?’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘The thing that turns off the water! Where is it?’

  ‘How would I know?’

  ‘Well, I’ve got no idea at all. Dad always dealt with that kinda thing.’

  ‘Look at it, Ben! There must be some way to turn it off—quick before the water pours through to Antonio’s chippy!’

  ‘There!’ Stamping on the flailing pipe, I got him to hold it tight while I found some wire to tie it up. But no sooner had I done that, then there was a loud, cracking noise and a long bolt flew out of the back of the machine; then a big nut and a whole collection of washers and stuff.

  ‘Leave it be!’ Dickie screamed, ‘Get the bloody plumber!’

  ‘Will you stop yelling like a big girl’s blouse! Look! Take these!’ I slid the nuts and bolts at him, ‘And get these down to Antonio…ask him if he’s got anything like that kicking about. And ask him to turn off the mains before we all drown!’

  ‘He won’t turn off the mains.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I already told you! He needs the water to wash his potatoes.’ In my mind’s eye I could see Antonio picking out his earwax, and the sight of his grubby shirt sleeves where he constantly wiped away the sweat was gross. If you ask me, his potatoes weren’t all that needed washing.

  ‘Get down there and tell him he’ll have a flood on his hands if he doesn’t turn off the mains! And hurry up!’

  While he scurried off, I held it all together the best I could. (It’s as well I couldn’t see the farce unfolding downstairs.)

  Later Dickie told me all about it. He burst in through the chip shop door to find Maggie in a foul mood (nothing new there then).

  ‘Maggie! Where’s Antonio?’ He shouted.

  ‘He’s inna the bathroom and he won’ta come out!’ Fat arms across her ample bosom, apparently Maggie shrank him with her stare.

  ‘Get him out! There’s a leak under the washing machine and we can’t stop it! You need to turn the water off!’

  ‘I no turna the water off!’

  ‘Get a plumber then!’

  ‘I no getta the plumber!’

  Dickie then told me he started yelling. Actually, I could hear him from the flat.

  ‘Antonio! Come out…it’s an emergency!’

  ‘He won’ta come out!’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Becau
se he very frightened.’

  ‘What’s he frightened of?’

  ‘He frightened of ME!’

  ‘Why? What’s up?’

  The glint in her eye made him shudder, Dickie said.

  ‘Last night me wanta to makka the love, but he no wanta to makka the love. So we do the fight!’

  Dickie said he warily held out the bolts and stuff, ‘This fell from the back of the washing machine!’

  ‘What is this?’

  ‘Just get Antonio out…please!’

  ‘I already told you…he won’ta come out.’

  ‘All right then, tell me…has he got any nuts?’

  Dickie then said she glared at him, then she smiled, and then she started drooling, ‘I don’ta really know.’ Her eyebrows were up and down like mating caterpillars according to Dickie. ‘That’s what I try to find out’ she covered. ‘I notta see down there, for ten years!’

  By the time Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants fell in the door, I’d managed to cobble everything together, with the aid of a spanner and a couple of wire clothes hangers. ‘It’s okay,’ I announced proudly, ‘I’ve fixed it, for now.’

  While we were clearing up, Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants brought up the subject of Nancy Cruddle again, ‘You’re not really going to marry her, are you?’

  I told him to let it drop, or we’d end up falling out. ‘Me and Nancy have named the day,’ I said. ‘We’ve already booked that fancy hotel at Caledcotte Lake so, as soon as we can get a disco, we’re having the biggest engagement party you’ve ever seen!’

  ‘Your mother will put a stop to it any way she can.’

  ‘Oh no, she won’t. I’ve already warned her, if she starts trouble, she’ll be thrown out, and no messing!’

  Much to everyone’s horror, including my mother’s, I’ve promised myself heart and soul and other bits to Nancy Cruddle. Yes she’s got a bit of a sordid reputation, but that was all in the past.

  After bumping into her at the cinema, we got talking and one thing led to another and now she wants to spend the rest of her life with me, so I’m not listening to the killjoys. Nancy loves me, and I love her, and we’re having the biggest engagement party you have ever seen.

  And to hell with the consequences!

  BEDFORD

  APRIL, TUESDAY

  PAUSING FOR BREATH

  These past weeks, since Nancy and I set the date for our engagement party, everything seems to be running smoothly; except for the fact that my mother has taken a real dislike to Nancy Cruddle. ‘Give her a chance why don’t you?’ I pleaded. ‘Who knows? She might well become your best friend!’

  ‘Never!’ she retorted. ‘That girl is a tart, and I do not want you, or this fine family linked with a tart!’

  Father argued handsomely, ‘If Nancy Cruddle is what our son wants, then we have no right to interfere.’

  ‘You may have no rights, but I’m his mother and it’s my duty to interfere!’ The smile she gave me would have turned milk sour. ‘I am not happy about this engagement party.’

  ‘So, does that mean you’ll definitely refuse the invite?’ I asked hopefully.

  ‘Don’t be a silly boy! You’re my only son. Besides, whatever would people think if I refused to come along and support you in your hour of need?’

  ‘What hour of need is that then?’ My mother never gives up.

  ‘Well…this thing with this…female,’ her lip curled with contempt. ‘We all know it’s bound to go horribly wrong! And when it does, I intend to publicly accept your apology with graciousness.’

  Father told her not to put such a downer on my future. ‘He’s old enough and ugly enough to make his own mistakes! He’s made more than enough in the past without your help,’ he reminded her, ‘so, I’m sure he’s capable of doing it again.’

  ‘Oh, thanks a bunch, Dad!’ I thought I might at least have him on my side.

  ‘I didn’t say this Nancy Crulled…thingamajig…whatever her name…was a big mistake. I’m trying to get your mother off your back, that’s all…’

  ‘Oh, is that so!’ Mother was out of her chair and at his throat. ‘I might have known you’d be on his side. Our son is useless…can’t make the right decision to save his life! And we all know why, don’t we, eh? He takes after you, that’s why!’

  Feeling like a failure, I could have given them both a piece of my mind, but I knew my dad was trying to please us both, being that he was the one caught in the middle, so I decided to make myself scarce. Besides, I’m already covered in battle scars where I’ve spent a lifetime coming between these two.

  Once I had left, I turned my mind to more urgent matters. These next few days would be non stop! I’ve aparty to oversee; balloons and party poppers to take along to the hotel. I needed to make sure they’d given me a big enough room and a dance floor large enough to take a crowd. Then there’s the band to call, music and lighting to check out. Not to mention party bills to be settled, a new shirt and jeans to buy, flowers for my darling, and the biggest, most dazzling engagement ring that money can buy…I’m already having nightmares about the size of the loan I’ve taken out.

  My Nancy is worth it though. These past weeks she’s made my life worth living. And I don’t care a toss what anyone said. They’re all wrong. Nancy is a real tonic. She’s warm and giving…she even shared her giant pizza with me. What other girl would do that, eh?

  Oh, and she’s great at sex…You would not believe the positions we get in! (I never knew I had dimples on the cheeks of my arse until she told me!) One night we were at it till the bed collapsed…then we had to pay a carpenter to repair the floorboards where the bed leg went through. Am I having fun or what?

  The truth is, Nancy Cruddle is the best! She knows exactly how to treat a guy. (Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants says it’s because she’s had plenty of practice…but he’s only jealous, like the rest of them.)

  I’m amazed at Poppy though. She’s been sulking ever since she found out my intentions to Nancy are honourable.

  Twice she forgot to feed the Persian cats, and the dogs were ill when she accidentally fed them with budgie droppings. It took me an hour to clean up where they sicked up all over my shoes.

  One morning I found her day dreaming while the hosepipe ran over the trough and flooded the geranium patch.

  ‘She’s not good enough for you,’ Poppy came into the office one day all sad and broken. ‘Please listen to me, Ben. She’ll break your heart.’ (I didn’t listen. They can all say what they like. I know the real Nancy, and they don’t!)

  Amazingly, me and Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants, have been getting on okay; he even made me a coffee this morning (though the kettle had given up the ghost by the time I got to it…) ‘It weren’t me!’ he said. ‘I didn’t break it!’

  ‘Well who was it then?’ I asked. ‘If it weren’t you, and it weren’t me, and we’re the only two in the flat, who else could it have been?’

  ‘It was the plumber.’

  ‘What plumber?’

  ‘The one who fixed the washing machine after you cocked it up.’

  ‘Oh, give over! That was weeks ago, and he didn’t go anywhere near the kettle. Besides, it’s been working all right, so how can he be to blame?’

  ‘He let it boil for ages with the lid off.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So…it’s a known fact that if you leave the kettle boiling with the lid off for too long, it burns itself out.’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Can’t remember.’

  I fished in my pocket and found a twenty. ‘Here!’ I thrust it into his sweaty palm. ‘See if you can get one next time you’re near the hardware shop.’

  ‘Can I borrow this, and get the kettle another time?’ He turned his trouser pockets inside out. ‘Only I’m a bit skint at the minute.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Only till Friday, I promise.’

  ‘I said NO!’ I was absolutely adamant. ‘Besides, you never even paid me back that tenn
er I lent you.’

  ‘So, I’ll give you thirty on Friday.’

  ‘NO!’

  ‘You know you said my socks were walking by themselves?’

  ‘Don’t remind me!’ I still had the smell of them in my nostrils. It’s true, his socks have taken on a life of their own, but Dickie and his socks are not my responsibility. ‘READ MY LIPS! YOU ARE NOT BUYING SOCKS WITH MY MONEY!’

  ‘Don’t you want to know why I need the socks?’

  ‘Surprise me!’

  ‘It’s your party soon, so I thought I should get a new pair…or three. And you remember Saturday, don’t you…what you said about the socks walking themselves to the shower?’

  ‘Could I ever forget?’ I swear it wasn’t a nightmare; I actually saw his socks, all stiff and stinky, march across the room and climb into the shower all by themselves.

  ‘So, can I borrow the twenty till Friday?’

  ‘You’d best not be using that money to back the horses!’

  ‘I’m not!’

  ‘I want to see at least four pairs of brand new socks and the receipt…before tonight!’

  His smile made me nervous. ‘You’re apal!’ When he says that I always feel like I’ve been done over by a conman.

  Later, I walked down the street with a smile on my face. This time on Sunday, me and Nancy Cruddle will be engaged to be married! How cool is that?

  I thought about what my mother had said…‘We all know it’s bound to go horribly wrong.’

  ‘No, Mother dear!’ I protested loudly (getting a few odd looks from passers by). ‘It will NOT go wrong. In fact, it’ll be the best party in the world, you’ll see!’

  In fact, it seemed at last that all was right in my world. And I wasn’t about to let anyone tell me otherwise! Not Poppy, not Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants. And certainly not my psycho mother!

  Roll on Saturday, that’s what I say.

  Me and Nancy will make them all eat their words.