14:48 | Posted by
Dale Darley |
Tuesday 12 July 2011
The flat was empty when she got in. Dark except for the flashing of the answer machine. Poppy hesitated, it was only 10.30 and she really needed a drink, but she was determined to be strong, and anyway yesterday she had poured the last lot of wine down the sink and couldn’t remember where the remnants of the Jack Daniels was. Instead she chanted her Clarissa Red, guru to the stars mantra. ‘Every day in every way I’ getting stronger and stronger, every day in every way, I’m getting stronger, every day……’ she marched around the room, breathe deeply, breathe, breathe, count 1,2,3,4, 1, 2 3, 4 breathe. Oh bugger she thought and pressed the button.
Bruce’s voiced echoed across the dark lonely living room, it had been a month; the bastard had stood her up, taken their holiday and now what did he want!
At Bruce’s insistence, that the wedding should be a small intimate family affair, there was only four of her family to get ready. He had said that he had sworn all of her friends and family to secrecy about the party, and that she shouldn’t ask anyone, just accept what he said. She therefore didn’t think it odd that her friends hadn’t asked when the party was, she just thought it was part of Bruce’s grand plan.
On her big day, inside the hotel Poppy found that it was only her and her family and a note in a silver envelope. It read.
Poppy after your revelations, I just couldn’t marry someone who didn’t respect themselves and would bring disrepute to my family, so mother has cancelled the service; the lunch is still reserved for you and your family so that you can tell them what you have done. I will be on the holiday that we booked. Please do not try to contact me. The rent is paid up for another month, and then it’s up to you. Bruce.
‘Poppy, hi,’ His voice oozed out of the answering machine ‘I guess I am the last person you want to talk to but, um, err, mother said to call, and that, um, that, um we should talk’ he ended brightly. Boomp went the phone.
‘TALK, TALK’ screamed Poppy at the dismal darkness, the blinking answering machine taunting her, how she hated this flat. The cushions on the sofa were just asking for it, he had chosen them, she leapt over and punched them with all her might, then total and utter violence over took her, and she started to run around the room like a banshee, kicking and punching anything and everything, it all came to an abrupt end when she accidentally head butted the door and passed out.
The following morning, Poppy knew that this was it, she had come into work every day for the last month with a hangover and she had even taken to sipping Jack Daniels from the secret hip flask she kept in her handbag. She knew her work wasn’t up to scratch. It was time to face the music. Edwina, her boss would certainly demand to know why she had a massive shiner and an egg on her head.
The men in the office were certain that Edwina used to be a man, they were positive that her large hands with short stubby nails were men’s hands and the polo necked jumpers and scarves she wore were hiding her Adam’s apple. They never called her Edwina it was always Edward.
Every time Poppy moved her head it hurt, it was as if her brain had shrivelled and was lolling around inside her skull and each time it touched the egg, the tenderness made her cry out. The shame, how could she have lost her temper and done such a stupid thing, oh surely they would sack her now.
She crept into her desk hoping that everyone would be too polite to mention it. Not a chance.
‘Poppy, my office now’ said a harassed looking Edwina.
‘Oh god I knew it would come to this.’ Wailed Poppy. ‘I am a jilted old drunk.’ And with that burst into tears, unable to breathe through the gulping heaving sobs, Poppy started to hyper ventilate, staring wildly at Edwina who, unsure of protocol slapped her smartly around the cheek.
A forlorn Poppy, could feel Edwina’s confused eyes on her. Poppy equally confused threw her arms around Edwina’s neck smearing her mascara over her new pale pink cardigan.
Some time passed until eventually Poppy calmed down and feeling sheepish looked deep into Edwina’s clear eyes and unravelled herself. Something passed between them, they had reached an understanding, neither quite sure how they came to this but each knew that help was at hand, a friendship had been struck.
When Edwina heard the story she laughed so much that Poppy was sure she was going to wee herself. Despite the pain, Poppy heard herself laugh too. It felt good, she hadn’t laughed for over a month now. Her friends were sick of her, moan, moan, moan.
‘Look, I am sorry’ said Edwina bursting out into laughter again. ‘But look at the state on you, and all for a man, who’s handcuffed to his mummy and who would have made your life hell.’ Edwina was uncontrollable each time she looked at the shiner, it was black and purple and covered most of Poppy’s face and made her look somewhat like a bulldog, only a little prettier.
‘So’ said Poppy ‘can I keep my job?’
‘Of course you can my dear, but there is something I want you to do for me. Here are some Clarissa Red books I want you to work through, and they must be in this order.” Edwina paused and then in an overexcited voice continued “And I have such an opportunity for you. My friend Penelope has tickets for the next Clarissa Red seminar in Cardiff, it’s a sell out and she had the last 3 tickets in the Emperor section, which to the uninitiated is right in the front and my dear, you can come with us for the miserly sum of £150. What a bargain, they are normally £350. Get your cheque book then.’
Poppy too taken aback to argue, scuttled off to her desk and got out her cheque book, and got right back to work. That’s ok she thought, kept my job, got some books, and got a ticket for a show, on the road to recovery, yeah!
The day passed in a blur until at 5.30 the buzzer announcing that the day had ended sounded. Poppy decided that she would head home, have a bath, a nice salad and read the first of Edwina’s Clarissa’s books, Jilted, you can bounce back, she’d would then move onto ‘Save your soul’, ‘Heal your past’ ‘Setting goals and moving on’ and ‘Sort your life out in a weekend’. She had flicked through this last one at lunch, it was ok, but there really was too much to do in one weekend. She vowed that she would read the books once and then come back and do the exercises. She at least knew some of Clarissa’s work and was already breathing.
Friday 1 April 2011
Admiring herself in the mirror Becci waited anxiously for the call. For 3 hours she had been exfoliating, moisturising, preening and pampering. Glancing at her new Tag, a recent present to herself, she wondered where he could be.
She’s met him 2 days ago when she’d stumbled on the cobbles outside the cathedral. The heel from her new Jimmy Choo shoes had come off and as the hot wet tears fell onto her French polished toe nails, a crisp white handkerchief appeared and proceeded to mop up the dark streaks of mascara running down her carefully made up face.
She glanced up, not her normal type, too hairy and not well dressed, she smiled her award winning smile she normally reserved for her targets. Picking up her heel, he laughed and passing it to her he declared in his very English accent, we must get you some sensible shoes. He grabbed her hand and dragged her off to Conti’s, her favourite Vienna café, ordered her a Cappuccino and saccher cake before she could argue. The stranger became Marcus and invited her to dine that evening, with nothing better to do she agreed.
She had been waiting for Marcus wearing her new black linen suit, with red bra top and high red sling backs when the hand reached along the bar, his touch electrifying her and while gazing deep into her eyes asked casually if she would like a drink.
This man was instinctively the kind of man she went for, dark, smooth and expensively dressed, chest hairs peeking through the open necked shirt. His trousers showed off his taught buttocks and draped over his beautifully cleaned shoes. Everything about him cried ladies man.
The manicured hands teasingly pulled her close to him, she could hear her heart beating, the blood rushing in her ears, her ovaries popped, she was lost and didn’t care.
Barely through the door of his room, clothes discarded, his hot fierce kisses fell into an all night release of lust.
Teasing her blonde straight hair into place, she felt only slightly ashamed as she texted Marcus to apologise for not meeting him. He replied there was always the following night and she had agreed.
She slung her Burberry over her slender bare bronzed shoulder, musing that she should really stop spending the house renovation money, she had whittled her £30k to £10k in just 2 short months. Still she thought £10k could still go a long way to making her nans house liveable.
Heading out to meet Marcus, she stopped at the cash point to discover her card was missing. In a panic she called the bank to cancel the card and was shocked to be told that her account was now in arrears.
Marcus meanwhile was enjoying his first decent meal in 3 months since losing his job.
Tuesday 22 March 2011
We visited grandads house every summer, always the week just before going back to school. Grandad played draughts with me, he called them chequers and cackled when he won, which he always did. Every year he told me the same story about the man in Palestine and the gun, right after his victory, ‘it was him or me’. I never understood and defeated I retreated to the gardens behind the house. The garden was full of trees, there was one, that reminded me of parma violets.
Dad told me that grandads dad had planted the trees and that one was very special. He chose it for my great grandmother and he had carved their initials in the bark just before proposing to her. Dad said that grandad had done the same. It was my tree. There were only ever 2 lots of initials and I wondered why my mum and dads weren’t there.
The discovery of a hidey hole soon made me forget. Every year I left a little treasure that I had found for the fairy that lived amongst the leaves. Some years it was joined by something from someone else, I am not sure who, but I think it was granddad, there was just something in his eye.
One summer I was hiding in the tree, dozing as you do when tired from your adventures, when I heard them. Divorce, that’s all I heard that summer. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it looked and sounded serious. I didn’t dare move a muscle, but made a pledge to leave a note to the tree fairy to make sure that mum and dad were kinder to each other. It must have worked, because they stayed together.
Over the years their fights became bickers, dampened by the heat of Spain’s summers. They moved to Spain for a new life. Dad’s new life ravaged his body, and now he slept almost all day.
Last autumn I decided on a last minute holiday and arrived to find him asleep as usual on the sofa, muttering, take me to the tree. Mum just tutted and looked that way that said it all.
Glass of wine in one hand, my other on him, mum and I caught up.
Three weeks later I am back at the tree. Dad is with me. I put him in the hole and ask the tree fairy to take him safely home.
It is only then I notice their initials, PD and GM.
Tuesday 11 January 2011
She had never thought of herself as a thief, that was until he had left them. Providence had saved them and the council had rehomed them, and as luck would have it, to a pristine block close to Belle Vue Park. Joe’s birthday was fast approaching and all the upheaval had frayed her nerves. She hadn’t meant to snap that morning, but his whining voice was chafing.
She had taken to wandering around the park aimlessly since being signed off work. A month she thought, did they really think her heart would heal in a month? She had seen the boats through the trees many times, but had never thought to take a closer look. Just recently she had lifted her head from the murk that was her brain and started to observe park life. Autumn was upon her, fall they called in America, where he had headed with his mistress, I hope they do, she smiled, her first one in almost three weeks.
Just one boat was there today, milling in a pool of tranquillity, unlike her thoughts whipped up into a storm. It’s gleaming hull, pure white, in stark contrast to the black kitten playing idly at the water’s edge. She wondered how she might make the owner surrender his vessel. She was scared of water, a swimming accident as a child rendered her incapable of even sitting on a beach. Edging closer, she imagined herself as Rita Hayworth, glamorous, resplendent in blood red costume and high heels giggling, with the dashing captain, sipping champagne. Knowing her luck he’d be more like Blackbeard, with last night’s dinner caught in his rotten teeth and a rough rum stench. At least he would be seducible; she could tempt him with her buxom bosom and lily white thighs. She giggled.
Quickly looking around, she really was alone, marooned and left to face her fate, she shouted ‘bastard’, taking up her cutlass she savaged her errant husband. She snarled, jabbing the cold morning air. ‘Take that’, she cried as she jabbed again. Hysterical laughter filled the air, she looked around to see where it was coming from. It was her. She stopped and took a hold of herself, took a deep breath. She had a boat to liberate.
Out of nowhere, hot tears shot from her eyes and cannon balled down her naked face. Through her tears the boat tormented her, she crept closer. The water shallow like men’s promises urged her on. The name Gracie caught her unawares; she had almost been called Gracie. Gracie Fields had died the day she was born 27 September 1979. She had come a long way since her birth in Rochdale to the cocoon of the park in Richmond. Glancing back at the tree lined path, a couple sauntered hand in hand, too wrapped up in their world to notice her, she was truly alone.
Bravery lifted her, she was Anne Bonny a women full of gumption and a heart of steel, she marched forward. In that moment she was aboard and in control, cutting through the water with the roar of the 2000-horsepower engines, the plumes of spray leaving a misty trail behind her.
All rational thought left her, the bounty before her, she hauled her vast frame forwards, reached and scooped the kitten and charged for the park gates.
Friday 17 December 2010
I wrote this for a presentation yesterday + I'd like to share it with you all. Its a bit silly :-)
If I were this necklace
I’d fill the world with miles of bright smiles
And cancel miserable Monday morning faces
Green and Blacks chocolate would be voted a vegetable
And I’d crown Ferdy dog King of the World
If I were this necklace
I’d string together a brighter future
And help everyone reach for the sky
We could all dare to dream, of what we could accomplish
And I’d vote Marmite, the toast topping of choice
If I were this necklace
I’d take away the weekly worry
And everyone would dance on Fridays
Resolutions would be a thing of the past
And I’d make mince pies a regular feast
If were this necklace
I’d wear it with pride
And show the world that I sparkle and glow
A crisp cold Chablis could be the new tea
And laughter & happiness the only way to go
If I were this necklace
I’d make tiramisu especially for you
And help you appreciate this wonderful earth
Where goals would be, just for now
And shoes and handbags were given for free
If I were this necklace
I’d share it with you
If I were this necklace
I’d fill the world with miles of bright smiles
And cancel miserable Monday morning faces
Green and Blacks chocolate would be voted a vegetable
And I’d crown Ferdy dog King of the World
If I were this necklace
I’d string together a brighter future
And help everyone reach for the sky
We could all dare to dream, of what we could accomplish
And I’d vote Marmite, the toast topping of choice
If I were this necklace
I’d take away the weekly worry
And everyone would dance on Fridays
Resolutions would be a thing of the past
And I’d make mince pies a regular feast
If were this necklace
I’d wear it with pride
And show the world that I sparkle and glow
A crisp cold Chablis could be the new tea
And laughter & happiness the only way to go
If I were this necklace
I’d make tiramisu especially for you
And help you appreciate this wonderful earth
Where goals would be, just for now
And shoes and handbags were given for free
If I were this necklace
I’d share it with you
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