A matter of great import

I do not intend to be drawn by your scurrilous, comment, Mr Adams; all I will say is that it is typical of you to kick a girl when she is down.

But I have more important things to worry about. This morning, on coming downstairs, I found, lying on the mat amidst the final demands, an envelope in an all too familiar hand. It contained a letter, which I reproduce here, in full:


Dear Spouse

Since the mountain won’t come to Mahomet, then Mahomet must perforce come to the mountain, by the only means at his disposal, i.e. the written word.

We had haddock for tea last night and I thought of you. I am not implying that you look like a haddock – nor indeed smell like one. No, the question of your resemblance to such fish is not the issue here. It is the fact that haddock is the only thing I can remember you cooking for me – or at least, the only thing that was edible. The culinary arts were never your forte.

I am not lonely, but am disappointed that you have not been to visit. The nursing staff has changed since my last sojourn in Heartbreak Hotel: I now have a key-worker: Clarice, a dusky lady who hails fro Jamaica. She tells me I should visit Kingston, “A fine city.”

I was embarrassed, not to say dismayed to read about the unseemly goings-on at Wynorin. (I think we should change the name of the house!). Clarice smuggled me in a copy of the Cotswold Cryer and I could hardly believe what I was reading. Are you running some sort of coven? Are you a cult? Much as I deplore such activities, if you need a character witness at your trial you can count on me.

I would like you to visit me, as there is a matter of great import I wish to apprise you of. It is not something I can put in writing; let us just say that it concerns a certain lady psychiatrist whose first name begins with ‘A’.
I know it means a long bus ride but I can get you a room here for the night. I don’t mean in with us lunatics: they have a couple of rooms for visitors who have travelled a long way (and also who may wish to enjoy conjugal rights!!!).
What do you say?

I must close now, as Clarice is here to give me a hand massage. They look after your physical as well as your mental needs in here. I have been suffering severe arthritis in the fingers of my right hand - probably due to all the writing – and Clarice gives me a good seeing-to with the essential oils around this time in the afternoon.

Cheers

George

P.S. How are you?

Now what am I to do? Should I undertake the long bus journey? What can the ‘matter of great import’ be? Should I stay overnight?
All these – and other – questions are racing around in my head, befuddling my poor brain. I need some advice.