Josephine Cox - Divorced and Deadly

‘Really?’ I wasn’t all that interested. ‘And did it go anywhere?’

‘What?’ Staring at me with fish eyes he looked evil.

‘I said…did it go anywhere? I mean, did you kiss her? Did you take her home afterwards?’

‘No.’ He looked embarrassed.

‘No…what?’ I wasn’t going to let this go!

‘No, I didn’t kiss her.’ He was looking shifty now.

‘Why not?’ I persisted.

Just then the conductor came for the fare. (It’s high time this lame government did something about public transport. In any civilised country, public transport to work should be free.)

Under protest, we paid the fare and when the conductor moved on, I prodded Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants, ‘Well?’

‘Well…what?’ I could see he was trying to avoid the subject.

‘Why didn’t you kiss her?’ I said.

‘Because I…didn’t, that’s all.’ He wouldn’t look at me.

There was something strange going on here, I thought. ‘Ah, I see!’

‘No! It’s not what you think…she didn’t slap my face or anything like that. In fact we got on really well…until…’ He blushed deep scarlet.

‘Until what?’ I had noticed on other occasions that when he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbed frantically up and down. Right now, it was going up and down so fast, it was like one of them balls in the Lotto draw.

‘Look, Ben, I know I like the girls, and sometimes they like me, and that’s fine. But sometimes it just doesn’t work out. So if I tell you the truth, you won’t laugh, will you…because if you laugh, I’ll feel worse than I feel now and frankly I feel terrible.’

‘Crikey, Dickie…you didn’t try it on did you…right there in the cinema? I mean, she didn’t raise the alarm did she, and get you thrown out?’ Already I was beginning to chuckle. Sometimes he can be a right prat.

‘No, that’s not what happened, and I’m not saying any more, because I knew you’d laugh. You always do!’

There was a moment of silence between us. He didn’t stop biting his lip, while I was thinking how it served him right, because he thinks he’s God’s gift and at the end of the day he’s just a pathetic loser, like me.

‘Ben?’ Dickie said in a small voice.

‘Now what?’ Honestly!

‘You think I’m a loser, don’t you?’ he continued.

‘Course not, why ever would I think that?’ That’s twice today somebody’s read my mind. Ooh!

Dickie seemed to think about it. ‘So, you won’t laugh if I tell you what happened, will you?’

‘I’ve already said, haven’t I?’ It was like talking to a brick wall!

This time the heavy silence lasted until just as we were almost at our destiantion.

He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of telling me, so I didn’t push it. Besides, I had other things on my mind: would Shelley turn up at the kennels? What if Laura showed her face? And as for Poppy…well, what should I do about Poppy? She has this silly crush on me. But like I said…I’m naturally popular; though if it goes on for long enough, it’s likely to get tiresome.

Once we were on solid ground and rushing along, Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants slipped in the news, ‘I did try and go a bit further after we shared my popcorn.’

‘Yes, I gathered that. And she slapped your face, caused a riot and you got thrown out. You took it too far before she was ready…like you always do. Now, that’s the truth isn’t it?’

‘No, she was ready for anything.’ Dickie said. ‘She kissed me full on the mouth, I got excited, slid my hand up her skirt, and for a minute I thought she was wearing woolly knickers, but they weren’t knickers. It was frightening! Her name wasn’t Pam, it was Sam, and it was me who caused the riot thanks to her… him, it was me who got thrown out.’

I managed to keep calm until he hurried off, and I was on my way up the drive to the kennels. Then my mind was alive with the image of Dickie with his hands up another man’s skirt. And God forgive me, I couldn’t help it. I was still laughing as I came into the yard; though laughter turned into a yell of horror when I skidded on some dog mess and ended up in the horse trough.

‘Oh, my! Are you all right?’ Poppy must have had her binoculars out. ‘Oh, Ben, you poor thing…let me help you.’

Here we go again!

Another day, another simple lesson to be learned.

Do not laugh at Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants, because you could end up in the horse trough or worse!

I feel uneasy.

Laura did not show up at the kennels today. There has been no sign of rampant Shelley, and as always, Poppy is still on the prowl. (I don’t know why she doesn’t just buy herself a dog and walk off all that raw energy.)

As for Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants, he’s a walking disaster! Remember how he accidentally on purpose put his groping hand up that girl’s skirt, and then discovered it wasn’t a girl at all? Well, according to him, he has now found himself a ‘proper girl’, and he’s absolutely besotted. ‘You’ve got to meet her,’ he came running down the street at me. ‘Her name is Leonora, and she’s so good looking, it’s unbelievable. And she really likes me!’ (I told him not to get too excited, because I know how easily excitement can turn to horror. But would he listen? Of course not.)

‘Good. I’m pleased for you.’ As always I did my best to humour him. ‘But don’t go rushing it or you’ll frighten her off.’

He drooled and gabbled all the way down the street. ‘She’s got a friend,’ he said. ‘Her name’s Georgie and she’s looking for someone. We could all go out on a date. So? What d’you think?’

I told him what I thought, in no uncertain terms. ‘You know what a frightening time I’ve been through…and am still going through,’ I reminded him, ‘so, what makes you think I need to mess my life up even more. I hope you’re not up to your old tricks again.’

‘What d’you mean?’ Dickie looked put out.

‘I mean…“she” is not a “he”…is she?’ I queried.

Blushing bright crimson, he took the hump. ‘I knew you’d never let me live that down!’ he declared sulkily. ‘I’ll have to remember not to confide in you any more. Anyway you’re barking up the wrong tree as usual. Her name is really Georgina. They just call her Georgie for short.’

We walked on in silence.

Poppy was waiting for me as I got off the train. ‘Oh, Ben, I’m so excited. I’ve had a birth; six boys and a girl!’

‘Well done,’ I told her. ‘As you haven’t even got a boyfriend, that’s an amazing achievement.’

She giggled in away that made me want to cuddle her. ‘No, silly! It’s Dizzy, the dog…she belongs to that old man who’s gone away for three weeks. He’s due back next Friday.’

‘Timed it well, didn’t he?’ It’s happened before. Some irresponsible owner lets the dog out; the local big boy cocks his leg over and before you know it, things are a stirring. The owner doesn’t want the mess and worry, so he dumps the pregnant bitch at the kennels and conveniently forgets to tell us there’s a happy event due any minute. Poppy protested, ‘we could see she was about to drop the puppies, but we couldn’t turn them away could we?’

‘Come on then.’ Spurring myself into a run, I went into the kennel and there, all curled up round their haggard mummy, was a clutch of the most darling little runts you can imagine. ‘I’m sorry, Poppy, but they’ll have to go!’ At times like this, I had to be hard.

Poppy started wailing and crying. (A girl in floods of tears always turns me to jelly.)

‘All right, STOP THAT!’ That’s the way to treat them.