Oisin
gone but not forgotten
At the risk of boring you all to tears, here's another nice little love story:
YVONNE
This new relationship was everything Barry Elkin had ever wanted. All his life he’d had delusions of being a playboy. In his younger days he had come close to meeting those aspirations. In fact, everything was going really well until he picked up with that silly bitch, Doreen, who went and got herself pregnant by him.
That was it. The good life was gone: No more flash dressing or gold jewellery. No more fast women or flash cars (in reality, no women or cars at all). But all that had changed now. Yvonne was giving him back the life he had lost.
He straightened the small knot in his silk tie and adjusted the collar of the sheepskin coat. The weight of the gold chain on his wrist gave him a sense of confidence as he stretched out to place his glass on the counter, ready for a refill. In his left hand he fingered a crisp new tenner; just one of the five Yvonne had rewarded him with for being such a stud.
Yes, life was indeed sweet. He felt like a movie star. Not any old movie star. No, not him – he was one of those from the XXX adult videos he and Yvonne watched together. His sex drive had always been well above average. Something, which, because of Doreen’s lack of interest and imagination, had caused him a considerable amount of frustration over the years. For as long as he could remember, on the rare occasions they got it together, sex with Doreen had been nothing more than a chore. Three kids and fifteen years on and what had he got to show? Nothing! Just tedium, debt and having to watch her get older and fatter – that’s what his life had become.
Now, with Yvonne, his only limitation was his imagination. She was game for anything. But it wasn’t just that; he could hold conversations with her that had something other than the kids as a topic. Oh, he thought the world of his kids; it was just Doreen twittering on incessantly about them that drove him crazy. With her outlook and the way she kept herself, it was hard to believe that Yvonne was actually older than Doreen.
Yes, everything in life had suddenly become very rosy. The only fly in the ointment was Yvonne’s husband, Michael. Even so, Barry had to confess to deriving a sort of perverted pleasure from knowing Michael was sweating his cobs off in the desert earning money for his wife to squander on her… lover… Lover! – he liked the sound of that! All his life that’s what he’d aspired to be known as, a lover, a stud, a Casanova, ‘The Birmingham Gigolo’. Yes, he definitely liked the image.
Fifteen long years that silly bitch, Doreen, had taken out of his life. Now he had something better and he was determined to make the best of it for as long as he could.
One more pint would just put him in the mood to return to Yvonne’s for the afternoon session. The bar staff were busy with more than the usual crowd in the Brown Eagle, but he was growing increasingly impatient. Rapping his gold sovereign ring on the counter top had little effect in attracting attention. And, to make matters worse, some big-mouthed lout, who’d just arrived, was shouting the odds at the smoke room hatch. Barry knew most of the locals in the Brown Eagle but this face was new to him.
‘Come on, Rita! I’ve been doing a dry ‘un in Saudi for the last eighteen months!’
The face’s words caused the hairs to bristle on the back of Barry’s neck.
‘Just a minute, Mick,’ the barmaid called back, ‘I’ve only got one pair of ‘ands.’
‘Shite!’ Barry muttered to himself through clenched teeth. It had to be too much of a coincidence. The coat. The soddin’ coat! It was too much of a give-away! He shouldn’t have borrowed it from the wardrobe. It was too distinctive. Michael was sure to spot it was his. Yeah, but Yvonne could have donated it to a charity shop and that’s where Barry had got it. No, that wouldn’t work. Why would she be giving her husband’s clothes away? On the other hand, perhaps he was safe while he was wearing it? Michael wouldn’t want to get bloodstains on his own very expensive coat.
So, Barry Elkin had his new life. However, had it not been for Doreen, he would not have had a single visitor to come and see him in hospital.
THE END
YVONNE
This new relationship was everything Barry Elkin had ever wanted. All his life he’d had delusions of being a playboy. In his younger days he had come close to meeting those aspirations. In fact, everything was going really well until he picked up with that silly bitch, Doreen, who went and got herself pregnant by him.
That was it. The good life was gone: No more flash dressing or gold jewellery. No more fast women or flash cars (in reality, no women or cars at all). But all that had changed now. Yvonne was giving him back the life he had lost.
He straightened the small knot in his silk tie and adjusted the collar of the sheepskin coat. The weight of the gold chain on his wrist gave him a sense of confidence as he stretched out to place his glass on the counter, ready for a refill. In his left hand he fingered a crisp new tenner; just one of the five Yvonne had rewarded him with for being such a stud.
Yes, life was indeed sweet. He felt like a movie star. Not any old movie star. No, not him – he was one of those from the XXX adult videos he and Yvonne watched together. His sex drive had always been well above average. Something, which, because of Doreen’s lack of interest and imagination, had caused him a considerable amount of frustration over the years. For as long as he could remember, on the rare occasions they got it together, sex with Doreen had been nothing more than a chore. Three kids and fifteen years on and what had he got to show? Nothing! Just tedium, debt and having to watch her get older and fatter – that’s what his life had become.
Now, with Yvonne, his only limitation was his imagination. She was game for anything. But it wasn’t just that; he could hold conversations with her that had something other than the kids as a topic. Oh, he thought the world of his kids; it was just Doreen twittering on incessantly about them that drove him crazy. With her outlook and the way she kept herself, it was hard to believe that Yvonne was actually older than Doreen.
Yes, everything in life had suddenly become very rosy. The only fly in the ointment was Yvonne’s husband, Michael. Even so, Barry had to confess to deriving a sort of perverted pleasure from knowing Michael was sweating his cobs off in the desert earning money for his wife to squander on her… lover… Lover! – he liked the sound of that! All his life that’s what he’d aspired to be known as, a lover, a stud, a Casanova, ‘The Birmingham Gigolo’. Yes, he definitely liked the image.
Fifteen long years that silly bitch, Doreen, had taken out of his life. Now he had something better and he was determined to make the best of it for as long as he could.
One more pint would just put him in the mood to return to Yvonne’s for the afternoon session. The bar staff were busy with more than the usual crowd in the Brown Eagle, but he was growing increasingly impatient. Rapping his gold sovereign ring on the counter top had little effect in attracting attention. And, to make matters worse, some big-mouthed lout, who’d just arrived, was shouting the odds at the smoke room hatch. Barry knew most of the locals in the Brown Eagle but this face was new to him.
‘Come on, Rita! I’ve been doing a dry ‘un in Saudi for the last eighteen months!’
The face’s words caused the hairs to bristle on the back of Barry’s neck.
‘Just a minute, Mick,’ the barmaid called back, ‘I’ve only got one pair of ‘ands.’
‘Shite!’ Barry muttered to himself through clenched teeth. It had to be too much of a coincidence. The coat. The soddin’ coat! It was too much of a give-away! He shouldn’t have borrowed it from the wardrobe. It was too distinctive. Michael was sure to spot it was his. Yeah, but Yvonne could have donated it to a charity shop and that’s where Barry had got it. No, that wouldn’t work. Why would she be giving her husband’s clothes away? On the other hand, perhaps he was safe while he was wearing it? Michael wouldn’t want to get bloodstains on his own very expensive coat.
So, Barry Elkin had his new life. However, had it not been for Doreen, he would not have had a single visitor to come and see him in hospital.
THE END
Another good one Paul. 