Pragmatism: does it really work?

I said to Myra ‘You know, thinking back to my time with Georgina, I realise now I was in an abusive relationship.’
She replied ‘All relationships are abusive – if they go on long enough.’

Myra and me – we’re more like brother and sister. Which is good, because I never had a sister. My brother used to dress up in women’s clothes – but that just isn't the same.
Anyway, Hector’s not even my brother! As I told you, he joined the family unit later – as a six-year-old boy. His origins were never explained to me.

I remember, when I was quite little, a teacher asked me if I had any siblings. I said no. I thought a sibling was some kind of pet: like a hamster or a guinea pig. I said to my mother: can I have a sibling for my birthday? I promise to feed it, clean it out, and stuff. She just told me to go out and play – by myself!

Last night I dreamt I was going to go to Vietnam for a holiday. I could do, you know; I have a bit of money stashed away that no one knows about. I’ve been saving it for a ‘rainy day’ but, let’s face it, it’s fairly pissing down at the moment. So perhaps I should, in the common parlance, just ‘go for it’.

In my dream there was an assortment of oriental types (mostly ladies), and I hadn’t even got as far as the airport! I got irritated because two of them were talking in Vietnamese, although I knew they could speak perfectly good English. I think it was to do with the pros and cons of the trip.

Anyway, my ‘sister’ and I had a most acceptable breakfast at a little café called The Green Door. Afterwards we had a stroll around the charity shops; I bought a pair of ‘tom-toms’ for £1 – I think I am going to take up drumming. Who knows, I might eventually have my own group! I wonder what I could call us?

Myra persuaded me to return to Briarwood. I thought well, until I book my passage for Vietnam, it is as good a place as any. Carole will be there of course, and I don’t fancy a ménage a trois. Still, any port in a storm, as my uncle Neville used to say. Unfortunately, he took the maxim literally - which led to a Court Marshal and his subsequent dishonourable-discharge from the Royal Navy. Still, it was a long time ago – 1943,
in fact.

Uncle Neville was my only ‘military’ relative; the others were miners – except my aunt Edna: she was a spot-welder.

Myra swung the sidecar expertly around a left-hand bend and there was Briarwood. Tears filled my eyes; the freezing wind had been whipping around the edge of the screen for the last four miles of open road.
‘I’ll lend you a pair of goggles next time.’ Said my driver.


When I climbed out of the ‘chair’ I saw Carole waving to us from the dining room bay window. She looked quite fetching in her white robe, her hair wrapped in a sort of turban made from a towel. How do women do that?
When she opened the door she smelled of bath essence and ‘essential oils’. And I thought that maybe a ménage a trois might not be so bad after all.

You have to take life as it comes. And if life gives you lemons… get a bottle of gin and make yourself a stiff drink. (Actually, that’s one of Myra’s aphorisms. Another one is ‘Better the devil you don’t know than a horse of a different colour’ – I don’t understand that one.)

We had a pleasant evening. But I felt rather sad. Myra played some songs from ‘The Singing Detective’ and they resurrected memories. One of them -‘It’s A Lovely Day Tomorrow’ - I always connect with Anita - the friend who hanged herself, so many years ago now. I loved Anita. I wasn’t in love with her, but I loved her.

Anyway, we had a few drinks, Myra, Carole and me, and then – I don’t know what time it would be – Myra suddenly announced – in a playful tone - ‘Well, I think it’s time for beddi-byes.’
‘Bloody Hell’ I thought. Because up to this time no mention had been made of sleeping arrangements. I was determined I wasn’t going to lie down with the fish again, but was in some trepidation as to the possible permutations of the bedchamber. So I said ‘I’ve left my pyjamas at the hostel’. At which they both burst out laughing. For some reason I found this quite unsettling.