Home for Christmas

Part II


'What's this I hear about you being up the old plum duff, Elsie, gel?' laughed mother.

'I think there has been some misunderstanding, mother' I stated calmly.

'Doesn't look like a misunderstanding to me', trilled mother, in that beautiful soprano she can attain when drunk.

Elsie just glared meaningfully at me, and then back to mother.

'No, the thing is mother', I expained, 'Elsie seems to think I am the father - but that is impossible.'

'Impossible!' scoffed Elsie, 'So I just imagined all that stuff in the Billiard Room!'

Mother threw up her hands in horror 'George how could you! You know how much your dear father loves that billiard table. I hope you took off your boots before you climbed upon it. '

'Mother,' I said, imploringly, 'How can you think that your son would do such a thing:  climb on father's billiard table - with or without my boots on.'

'I believe you, my boy'. Mother belched violently, and went on 'So all this copulation business is lies?'

'Well, not exactly,' I demurred, 'It is true that, much to my shame, I allowed cousin Elsie to have carnal knowledge of me, but I cannot have fathered a child because we did it standing up - against the cue-rack.

I'm afraid I must have embarassed mother, because her face flushed, a sort of deep pink. ' But George, whatever makes you think that you cannot make a lady pregnant if you do it standing up?' she enquired of me.

'Well, Farmerson told me that if you do it standing, all the little sperms cannot swim upwards - not like salmon - and therefore never reach the egg... cell... whatever. And they just... fall out.'

Elsie sniggered.

'George,' said mother, gently, 'You should not believe everything your chums tell you - I think they tease you sometimes.'


'But Farmerson's not a chum,' I protested, 'he's our biology teacher'.

Mother's expression softened. 'George, why don't you go and have a chat with Borris. You will find him in the potting shed, having a smoke.'

'But mother, that is a filthy, disgusting habit: cigarette smoking. I know that you and father like your pipes, but that is different - isn't it?

'Of course, my sweet. But Borris smokes these special herbal cigarettes, which are very good for calming the nerves, and generally relaxing a person. In fact, in his country it is customary to to share one of these cigarettes as a token of friendship. So if he offers (he may actually use the word 'toke') it would be churlish of you to refuse.'

'But mother -'

'Run along now, while I have a little chat with cousin Elsie.' interrupted mother.

With my shoulders drooping disconsolately, I left the drawing-room. 



(to be continued)