Eric Morecambe - Mr Lonely

Soon now, he told himself. Slow down. 22, 22, where are you—22? Oh, there you are. The white Rover slowly turned into the gravel path, through the ever-open gates, and went towards the closed garage doors. Carrie’s car’ll be in the garage, he thought, so I’ll have to back up and open the garage doors. Cobblers. I’ll leave it out. It’s a nice night and she’ll be able to take Elspeth to school in it tomorrow. I’ll leave the keys in the usual place, under the tin of Cadbury’s Lucky Numbers Assortment in the kitchen.

Sid said all this to himself in the car while fighting to get out of the seatbelt without unlocking it. A thought came to him. Stop. Unlock the seatbelt, son. That’s a good idea. I know. Do it now. He did and the belt slid back and once again he was a free man.

He quietly closed the car door and locked it from the outside. He quietly opened the car door again and turned off the lights. He then banged the car door shut. He did not actually roll towards the front door and he did not exactly stagger, it was both, more of a rollagger. He looked up and above his front door saw the space for the immortal words—Pri, Satis, Achi. For a full two minutes he tried to open the front door with his car keys. After several deep breaths and a search of pockets, he found the door key and let himself in. The porch light was on, as always. He tiptoed into the dark kitchen, made his way across to the pantry and put the light on there, left the front door keys under the Cadbury’s Lucky Numbers tin, turned out the pantry light, crossed the dark kitchen towards the porch light and switched the kitchen light on, thinking he was turning the porch light off as he closed the kitchen door.

Carrie, his wife, was at the top of the landing, slowly making her way downstairs. She was wearing a dressing-gown over her nightie. Sid looked up and at one glance knew there was something wrong. She looked so ill. She had obviously been crying. Her eyes were puffed and red. Sid became sober within a few seconds. He walked up the stairs towards her. Tears were welling up in her eyes. He gently put his arms around her shoulders and slowly guided her down the stairs. A hundred things went through his mind: His mother had died. Her father. They’d been robbed. She’d been raped. She’s found out about Serina. How? Serina had phoned her. Why? What for? Spite. Balls. Use your head.

He took her into the best room and switched the lights on, sat her down on the sofa and held her hand. He knew he must not rush her, let her cry. ‘It’s all right, love,’ he soothed. ‘You cry.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Would you like a drink? A cup of tea, darling?’ She shook her head. ‘Would you like to tell me what has happened?’ He smiled to give her confidence, he hoped. Carrie seemed to have a little more control of herself now.

‘Didn’t you get my message, Sid?’ she asked. ‘It’s Elspeth.’

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