Not difficult to recall the beginning of the eight months that I lost contact with reality, now, at the end of this period, the difficulties arise, the gradual realization of having been left with nothing through the experience and the further realization that when one is down and alone, people revert to their basic instincts, even people I had considered friends, relatives included, these people will, unhesitatingly, go for whatever they consider is worth the taking, even your home ,with a certain air of disdain, willing to condescend to letting one live in a back room “Share kitchen and bathroom” fortunate to be given such favorable terms.. In my case I quickly started to recover at the thought, not having seen my son or his wife since that day.
My slide into obscurity began inauspiciously in Pattaya, in Thailand, by the pool in the Palm Villa Hotel, the first week of January. 1993.
I thinking of London, cold, bleak, the body moving business, the Turks, SuJack, only in the odd moments... when not preoccupied with the Sun, the practically idyllic surroundings, the young, very young, nubile girls, dressed in the briefest of swimwear, splashing aimlessly in the azure water, as if time did not exist, as if there were no reality, as if whatever had passed before in my life had been part of a prolonged, painful, dream.
Pa there, determinedly playing cards with some of the girls in the shade, sitting tightly cross-legged on a white, wide, high back chair, playing for big stakes, a fiercely determined expression on her face, never seen that before, she was always so soft, so unconcerned , so considerate. Maybe I had noticed a change in her a few days previously, but dismissed it as imagination. Having known her for a long time, she had never been anything but attentive towards me.
Never able to forget our first meeting during the April Water Festival.... had been on the motor bike cruising.. looking ..the usual thing.... There had been a big commotion outside the 'No Hands Bar' I stopped in the crowd , water and packets of flour being flung everywhere . Suddenly out of the melee she was running, laughing, being chased by two or three men. She simply jumped on the back of the bike, revved it and rushed away with her clinging quite unconcernedly to me , as if we had always known each other, head on my shoulder, arms clasped about my practically bare body.
Something had clicked shut inside my mind at that precise moment in time, as if I were suddenly complete, as if all my searching for whatever it was that had always eluded me, had finally been found. Such was her impact on my existence. A strange, unreal, sensation , all the wrongs of my life had suddenly been righted, that nothing, nothing else at all mattered, simply that this completely unknown young woman. was with me .
From that moment I had lived her, breathed her, never for a split second doubting that she also felt the same way regarding myself.
That meeting had occurred when it was “Come in Number Seven” my time up, almost immediately after that fateful day, quite devastated at the realization, trying to think of any way to stay on. Going through all the normal procedures, getting all the normal rejections at the Airline ticket office . Certainly I could stay on, only it would cost a arm and a leg. These people not being slow seizing on any such situation, the slightest opportunity to make the dollar. I simply could not match their terms. It meant going back to the real world. That last evening alone with her being one of the longest and most painful in my life.
We sat quietly in my white room at the V and M Terrace Hotel, the window looking onto the small garden, the Blue Cross on the hospital opposite, already flashing in the soft dusk of evening. Looked at her few pathetic things.. the sum total of her life spread out before her. the whole lot fitting into a small hold all. She would need money until I returned within the month, not only for herself but for her child and mother.. .also her fare up into the sticks in Laos. I tried to imagine what she described , in her broken, halting English . A tin roofed hut , bamboo walls, the lot standing on poles above the water complete with buffalo beneath. Everywhere infested, no doubt, with mosquitoes. Electricity at a price, a television she had managed to get for her small son. Water had to be carried. She told this story flat, without any emphasis, her voice soft, calm. I asked about the boy . A man , a man from Denmark had suggested a child, she had replied "Why Not?' never seeing him again. The usual story repeated over and over by every girl . A certain hope mixed with fatalism, a resignation to the inevitable.
It had taken two years and about ten trips before I started waking up to Pa .. the euphoria sliding slowly, silently, away , my visits not quite fitting in with her schedules I, becoming little more than part of her payroll ..someone to be tolerated with that aspect in mind ……………a feature of Thai existence
Dave, an accountant, quietly on the run for fiddling clients accounts, a very pleasant, talkative man, asked why I was putting up with 'The Treatment" " You should out her". Nodding towards Pa, who by now had been glaring at me almost with contempt after my trying to break up her card game. She was in for about 5000bhts. A months wages "straight" out there would be about 1000bhts. A twelve hour day for one pound Sterling
Started to feel as if small pieces of my brain were breaking away inside my head, becoming difficult to focus on anything , anything other the painful fact that Pa was giving me a very hard time, looking very attractive in her bikini, the glasses added something rather than detracted, reminding me of someone I used to know, rare to see a young, Thai woman with them, they kept slipping down her nose on the perspiration, she pushing them back with her so small, so beautifully manicured index finger.
The sun burnt down on the men somehow washed up on this tranquil shore, so far and so different from what was previously known to them, surrounded by sex, its inherent problems,. which could conveniently be dropped the moment they arose, by those astute enough….. a type of freedom now mostly unknown in Western Civilization . Evidently I was one of those who could not simply walk away, unable to look elsewhere, as if ordering a different meal at a restaurant.
Pa had a tight grip on my existence, knowing instinctively what was expected from a woman and knowing exactly how to give it..
Quite small, well built, all the right things in all the right places, her head reaching halfway up my chest. Long thick, completely straight, black hair reaching below her waist. I always insisted pleated in the traditional Thai way with three different colored ribbons. She moved distinctively, as a tigress.
Sat brooding, finding faults with her, real or imaginary, doing some arithmetic as to her running costs. The previous day simply having to buy her some glasses, her eyesight had become really bad when it came to reading, had noticed her squinting in the past but let it go. Glasses out there are not cheap, nothing is really cheap in Thailand, you pay one way or the other. Today part of her sulks was that I failed to come up with her stake money. Noticed she had not stopped hitting the Sinhga beer, probably the strongest in the world, made with Embalming fluid. She could down seven bottles a night, one would put most men out for the night
Finally the sun started to slope away from the vertical, moving into the trees throwing long patches of shade onto the hot concrete, Slightly cooler, the old men began lifting their bodies from the beds and deck chairs, the girls busy round them wiping their extended layers of fat with colored towels. Then drifting off in pairs hand in hand towards the bungalows . Pa and her three companions remained absorbed in the game which had now been going on all day, during that time she had acknowledged my existence enough to ask me for some money and to order a meal for her.
Looked at the pool, its exotic surroundings, every inch of it etched in my brain with a needle of steel, realizing that most of the few good things I had ever experienced in my existence had happened in, near, or by this particular spot.
The deterioration in my mental condition accelerated from that moment. Suddenly deciding to get up, walk into the hotel, get money from the safe, get on my motor bike and go round to the V&M Terrace Hotel and book in, a place where I was well known, having stayed there many times.
Felt agitated, guilty, nervous, attempting desperately to smile at all the cleaning girls who were finishing work for the day.. Gaily laughing at me, wanting to know where I had been , why I had not visited them, remarking the amount of weight I had lost since my previous trip. These ladies missed nothing, not the slightest detail, their lives absorbed in other people's. Amazingly they always seemed so cheerful, always smiling on their one pound sterling a day. A full twelve hours.
Pa had not bothered to look up from her cards at my departure. For some reason I did not want her to become aware of my movements, becoming obsessively secretive, imperative that I did not see her again, simply unable to face her not wanting me , hiding, my only solution, knowing that this was symptomatic of the illness eating into my head.
The receptionist at the V & M looked at me in a way that stuck in mind. Knew the woman quite well, yet she was looking into, rather than at me, as if she could see something I only becoming aware of . Gave me my old room on the ground floor with the small garden outside the window.
This, a mistake, Pa and I had spent long periods of time between the air conditioned, white, walls, the blue cross on the hospital opposite burning through night. A room intensely full of memories, but, too late, too late to move, little more strength left, it had been eaten away by the turmoil, stress, anguish, confusion in my brain.
Instinctively, knew that by now Pa would be starting to look. Waiting, back in the bungalow, its rickety, high one room. Its’ huge bed with the torn mattress, the fan gyrating slowly, endlessly, the lizards motionless, hanging on the beams, crickets and frogs starting their evening chorus.
She would be in the shower, water pouring, cascading. The long hair, down below her waist, clinging over her small firm breasts. Apparent, I would have to get back, collect my gear, face her, in spite of my misgivings, yet, I did not want to upset the situation, did not want any scene, she, just as fragile underneath all that professionalism, all that confidence.
Went down to the 'No Hands Bar' needed a drink something, anything, to throw off this deep depression that had gripped me so tightly. People looking at me, at my face, asking "Where ‘s Pa ?" we inseparable and "why don’t you get rid of her.. tell her to simply go away" Most of all they delighted in reminding me that she was “Queen of the Billionaires Bar", what this entailed, can only be left to the imagination.
I hardly cared what she was , or had been. She had always been everything I ever wanted, there were never any arguments, never spoke about the other side of her existence, or mine. When men who obviously knew her approached, she would ignore them. Only once, very late, at the Bamboo bar, did she suddenly get up and walk carefully amongst the crowd, finally sitting close to a man on a wicker sofa in the far corner of the darkened room… I had looked again …………and they were both gone.
Returned to the Palm Villa. Dark, the darkness had come suddenly, no long twilight , walked between the bungalows sitting in the thick tropical growth of trees and flowers, trying to get some control over myself and my feelings
Key in the door she lying naked, front down on the bed in the darkened room, pillow under her chest, head cupped in her hands, watching the box, the light flickering on her face, from the pornography . Turned her head towards me, a small question mark.. probably aware that my body was trembling, rolled to her side holding an arm out to me. …something I could no longer handle.. . more or less falling into the shower trying to control my brain which was badly fluctuating, realizing that it was now imperative for me to get back to the U.K. ... no longer capable of handling Pa or the whole situation . Many other men had also stumbled badly, disastrously in this situation ………the strange mystique of this dreamland ,so remote from reality.
The room in darkness other from reflected lights outside, she lay quite still on the bed.
Eight o’clock, knew, whatever happened, she would be wide awake and ready for the “off” at Midnight.
Swallowed a sleeping pill, gave one to her . Strangely she had never questioned what I gave her to take and there had been a few concoctions. She put the glass back on the sloping, broken, table next to the bed , my body uneasily next to hers.
"What's wrong Peter??” all her aggression gone.
I never answered. It was impossible express my feelings, how to explain myself
“Do you want sex?"
she persisted, rolling on to me, so incredibly soft in every respect in every conceivable way, the electricity passing from her made my every nerve end tingle.
Remained motionless, a cold perspiration running off my head into my eyes.
She waited, poised, her finger tips moving across my skin, my mouth became tight and dry, my body paralyzed with doubts, indecision’s and desire.
"Why don't you speak?"
Whispering, her breath cool and clear, her mouth rubbing my ear, so very gently, as if afraid the slightest discord would completely fracture the fragile situation, plunging us into a final nowhere
It seemed a very long time before she slid off my inertia, turning on her side away from me
Opened my eyes……the light on.
She, sitting at the small wooden dressing table .. watched the movement of her breasts in the mirror as the brush pulled down her long hair, the only make up she ever wore was a color round her eyes, tonight , a very pale green .
With one of my shirts on, a pair of shorts cut to her navel, pair of white, high heels, nothing else She, ready...captivating.. the business…..
Looked at my watch, one minute past midnight………. She precisely on time, moved, sitting on the edge of the bed, intent, intent on Peter.
"Your tired…go to sleep”
Her small hand over my eyes.
"I won't be long ......"
Her voice soft, tender, gentle, as if to sooth me back to oblivion.. At her best…the moment she set foot onto the pathway between the bungalows, I would be forgotten totally and completely , her only misgiving, that her charm may not work, that I may suddenly want to go with her. Her mind firmly fixed on the "Strip” and the "Marine Bar" in particular, to be free , hardly needed Peter there………..
Played my part, "Goodnight doll... don't drink too much and be careful"
Trying to sound as if about to drop off.
She poised hesitantly, so very beautiful, her face a perfect, small oval, a picture of complete innocence.
"Oh !” almost forgetting my the next move.
"Take some money off the side"
She brightened at this.
"and remember if I go out will leave the key under the plants beside the door"
Tried to make this sound casual.... whatever, not wanting her making a racket after staggering back at daylight, unable to get in, the place deserted. She did a half take, kissed me on the cheek, quickly picked up the necessary and was gone, silent, like a ghost.
We were never to see each other again.
Waited a long time in the absolute silence. All creatures great and small, had gone to sleep, even the lizards had finally locked themselves motionless on the high wooden beams, the dogs had ceased barking faintly in the distance, the hard, arrogant, incessant grunt of the German next door finally stopped, the moans of his so young companion died away. The only time he ever left her alone was during his sleep.
Almost one a.m. night poised, expectant, things starting to buzz on the “Strip”
By now Pa would have jumped on the knee of the first man she fancied in the huge, hot, reverberating, crowded room, regardless of whom he was with, arms round him, her warm firm body pressed tight, the voltage surging out from her. There could be no resistance.
Felt suddenly very sad, isolated, looked about the room I knew so well, the soft light from the bedside lamp throwing long shadows up the walls and onto the remains of what had been.
*******************************************************
There was more junk to pack than appeared possible, shoved it in the bags anyhow, a sense of urgency , no way did I want Pa to come strolling nonchalantly back having become bored with the scene down the road. She did have sane moments. I would have been mincemeat to her in such a conciliatory mood, spreading her strong self over me, smothering any resolution I may have left, astride, on top of my body, refusing to dismount until I was just a sweat soaked, wreck.
Finally, everything appeared to be together, all that remained was a last gesture towards Pa. The rickety dressing table, the two hair clips she had demanded In the "Day and Night" A brush, the full Bart wedding ring she had so ceremoniously bought me, I placed on top of photographs of us together.
Meticulously tidied the table up, could hear them saying "You didn’t leave her money!"
Put a few hundred dollars under the photographs, the watch, next to the ring, had liked that. Everyone had been in total disbelief of her buying a ring…for Peter…. such a large piece of gold for a Farang… almost without precedent, the rickety table, a shrine, if you like, to what had been.
There was a great deal of pressure. Underneath all this something was saying “You’re a miserable bastard" which is true "you know she doesn’t have a pot to piss in", which was also true.
These ladies, mostly have little to show for giving their best years to the Farang, almost everything going to their parents and their children. But I had run before, there had been other females, other faces, other places.
Simply survival… my survival. Most men quickly lose the initiative, the ability to run, too burdened with “what is” the hole they have all so unwittingly dug themselves so deeply into.
By the time I dragged myself out into soft, scented night, stars hanging on the rooftops, placed the key under the plants, struggled down to Soi.2, I, almost in a state of collapse.
The Taxi swirled to a stop in a cloud of dust beside me, threw my junk into the open back, fell in after it and was rushed unceremoniously away on my long journey back, back to deepest, darkest, Hackney and the gaunt hospital where they still possessed the records from my previous breakdown a decade ago.
Se afișează postările cu eticheta Jack. Afișați toate postările
Se afișează postările cu eticheta Jack. Afișați toate postările
No Way Back with Susan
As I may or may not have said ..It had become apparent between Susan and myself there was a void.. deeper almost each day.. we falling apart as so many other "couples" for so many different reasons.
Realized this when I did find time to lift my head from work, look about to what was happening in my life. Apparent, I no more than intrusion to her coffee mornings .. her friends .. her life… Did manage to find time to nut all this out, many men do not ..prefer not to.. or the realization coming much too late.
Usually spent couple of week nights in Bishops Stortford, invariable arrived every Friday night.. settled down. Took them both out Saturday to the market or whatever , did the gardening Sunday.. all the usual things every one does.. It was… it was.. boring. Tell me someone who is not bored …! Finding those willing to admit it is something else. The attitude adopted by so many people is that the child is the consideration and the compensation.. all else swept aside.. maybe..
Monday morning up before the child went to school I had never been allowed to enter the school for any of the usual parent functions, whatever.. ..Susan put the block on this for her own calculated reasons, never really remonstrated.. did not know why then…see quite clearly her ball game now. Allowed to drop them both off if I had the cab, otherwise, it was on the bike, start it up, let the boy sit on it, which he was permitted , no more, his mother… then the perfunctory wave, throttle open and roar away down the M. 11… as if there were no tomorrow. A deep sigh of relief.. enough to mist the visor up…
Xmas. . fast approaching.. always a time of mild panic on my part ..always hated it ever since Australia roast turkey on the beach 32 degrees in the shade… wondering how I would survive this one… 1990.a.d.
Bernie had mentioned going with the gang to Thailand for Xmas.. said it would "Do me good". whatever .. he was very discerning ….. I not too sure about Susan and Jack..
Last new year had taken them to a very smart turnout over a three day period.. A great deal of money for three nights, however, cost was of no consideration to Susan, no attempt to join in any "festivities" .
Everyone getting ready for the New year eve bash .. she sitting there like damp rag.. The Kid started playing up ,, running about banging doors generally getting in everyone's way. I gave him a whack which was his cue to run to Mummy.. Mummy to go bananas at Peter .. it was "On" regardless of everyone .a complete tantrum, as if no one else existed.. then that was Susan
There were a few people I knew, they watched this small drama with some interest, asking what was wrong with the pair of them?? I shrugged.. I had simply tried to check the child.. Not according to Susan, the little sod could do no wrong. Often wondered why It took me so long to realize I had served my purpose the moment she had conceived!! Then men are rather stupid .. most of the time…
The child fully aware of how to wynd the situation up, knew precisely the situation between his mother and myself …balanced on a knife edge.. If , according to him, I stepped out of line, he ran straight to her….therefore the child was without control…unlike in my day, it would be at least a clout behind the ear, or a good belting for stepping so close.
The same situation applies to so many "homes'
No.. not very sure about the fast approaching Xmas.. not at all sure how to play it.. but 'Fate " if you like, stepped in and decided for me.
Mobile phones then, were not a must in society, few people had them, mostly for business, they had not caught on as a means for mindless inanities… they were not prolific, not reaching into the pockets of beggars in the street.
Bernie never, ever, rings anyone other than for a important event.. may ring SOS to lay on a party.. , I had given him the nod I would go to Thailand.. only that .. a nod, no more . no conversation on the matter . ………….Suppose a nod is so good as a wink…
Probably a Monday morning, just getting ready to go to town, a bit of breakfast .. not too much asked of Susan.. she could go to a piece of toast ………that's your lot.. Sitting in the living room, she next to me, none committal. .silent .. no doubt waiting for me to fuck off ..
Then the phone rang..
As said, Bernie had a very loud voice, like a fog horn ….Typical “East end Dockers". He also stammered very badly….a very rich mixture. Opened the phone and his voice came booming out.
"Is that you P.P.P.. Peter!!??
I . so surprised …what did he want??..
" Well.. He said I G.G…..Got the T.T ..Tickets.
The only word I could think of was "Fuck!!"
Susan looked …
Shut the phone off quick, hoping.. a vain hope
Momentarily thought of trying to bluff myself out of it .. but she twigged immediately,.,, What else does she have to think about, other than what move Peter will make and can she twist it ,turn it, to her advantage!
This was her Cue and she stepped straight in. Taking a long draw of the black roll up she always had dangling between her thin lips.
"He Has bought tickets for Thailand has'ent he!! "
She started, low key……..
What could I say ?? couldn't say very much..
Said "Yes " very quietly
"So your going to Thailand for Xmas.."
" Yes."
" .'What about me .!!??". as if she cared
"What about last year?? You cost me a cock eyed fortune.. for what ??
Fate had really stepped in.. as fate can..
Tried to be fair ( ..always try….. usually get a kick in the bollocks for doing so …….. this occasion should be no different ) said..
"Will give you whatever money you want, go where you want.. what happened last year will not let it happen this. The situation being I am not able to do anything with the child without your permission. Not allowed to say anything at all to him. He knows this and uses it as a weapon, where does it put me ?? I am not your ex husband… a yes man.. until even he could take no more . "
She never answered .. was there one?? ..Fully aware what she was doing.
May have embezzled the state for many years on the dubious substance of her mental condition, but hardly fooled Peter. Most people try to.. Maybe I look stupid… in her case she had used me up.. for eight years
Her simply "dropping out " when the going became tough ..a escape used by many people.
All suddenly rather Immaterial.. Hardly remember how time went until take off.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Yes, I did go back to Pattaya back to Thailand, knowing there really was no way back with Susan.. none…
Realized this when I did find time to lift my head from work, look about to what was happening in my life. Apparent, I no more than intrusion to her coffee mornings .. her friends .. her life… Did manage to find time to nut all this out, many men do not ..prefer not to.. or the realization coming much too late.
Usually spent couple of week nights in Bishops Stortford, invariable arrived every Friday night.. settled down. Took them both out Saturday to the market or whatever , did the gardening Sunday.. all the usual things every one does.. It was… it was.. boring. Tell me someone who is not bored …! Finding those willing to admit it is something else. The attitude adopted by so many people is that the child is the consideration and the compensation.. all else swept aside.. maybe..
Monday morning up before the child went to school I had never been allowed to enter the school for any of the usual parent functions, whatever.. ..Susan put the block on this for her own calculated reasons, never really remonstrated.. did not know why then…see quite clearly her ball game now. Allowed to drop them both off if I had the cab, otherwise, it was on the bike, start it up, let the boy sit on it, which he was permitted , no more, his mother… then the perfunctory wave, throttle open and roar away down the M. 11… as if there were no tomorrow. A deep sigh of relief.. enough to mist the visor up…
Xmas. . fast approaching.. always a time of mild panic on my part ..always hated it ever since Australia roast turkey on the beach 32 degrees in the shade… wondering how I would survive this one… 1990.a.d.
Bernie had mentioned going with the gang to Thailand for Xmas.. said it would "Do me good". whatever .. he was very discerning ….. I not too sure about Susan and Jack..
Last new year had taken them to a very smart turnout over a three day period.. A great deal of money for three nights, however, cost was of no consideration to Susan, no attempt to join in any "festivities" .
Everyone getting ready for the New year eve bash .. she sitting there like damp rag.. The Kid started playing up ,, running about banging doors generally getting in everyone's way. I gave him a whack which was his cue to run to Mummy.. Mummy to go bananas at Peter .. it was "On" regardless of everyone .a complete tantrum, as if no one else existed.. then that was Susan
There were a few people I knew, they watched this small drama with some interest, asking what was wrong with the pair of them?? I shrugged.. I had simply tried to check the child.. Not according to Susan, the little sod could do no wrong. Often wondered why It took me so long to realize I had served my purpose the moment she had conceived!! Then men are rather stupid .. most of the time…
The child fully aware of how to wynd the situation up, knew precisely the situation between his mother and myself …balanced on a knife edge.. If , according to him, I stepped out of line, he ran straight to her….therefore the child was without control…unlike in my day, it would be at least a clout behind the ear, or a good belting for stepping so close.
The same situation applies to so many "homes'
No.. not very sure about the fast approaching Xmas.. not at all sure how to play it.. but 'Fate " if you like, stepped in and decided for me.
Mobile phones then, were not a must in society, few people had them, mostly for business, they had not caught on as a means for mindless inanities… they were not prolific, not reaching into the pockets of beggars in the street.
Bernie never, ever, rings anyone other than for a important event.. may ring SOS to lay on a party.. , I had given him the nod I would go to Thailand.. only that .. a nod, no more . no conversation on the matter . ………….Suppose a nod is so good as a wink…
Probably a Monday morning, just getting ready to go to town, a bit of breakfast .. not too much asked of Susan.. she could go to a piece of toast ………that's your lot.. Sitting in the living room, she next to me, none committal. .silent .. no doubt waiting for me to fuck off ..
Then the phone rang..
As said, Bernie had a very loud voice, like a fog horn ….Typical “East end Dockers". He also stammered very badly….a very rich mixture. Opened the phone and his voice came booming out.
"Is that you P.P.P.. Peter!!??
I . so surprised …what did he want??..
" Well.. He said I G.G…..Got the T.T ..Tickets.
The only word I could think of was "Fuck!!"
Susan looked …
Shut the phone off quick, hoping.. a vain hope
Momentarily thought of trying to bluff myself out of it .. but she twigged immediately,.,, What else does she have to think about, other than what move Peter will make and can she twist it ,turn it, to her advantage!
This was her Cue and she stepped straight in. Taking a long draw of the black roll up she always had dangling between her thin lips.
"He Has bought tickets for Thailand has'ent he!! "
She started, low key……..
What could I say ?? couldn't say very much..
Said "Yes " very quietly
"So your going to Thailand for Xmas.."
" Yes."
" .'What about me .!!??". as if she cared
"What about last year?? You cost me a cock eyed fortune.. for what ??
Fate had really stepped in.. as fate can..
Tried to be fair ( ..always try….. usually get a kick in the bollocks for doing so …….. this occasion should be no different ) said..
"Will give you whatever money you want, go where you want.. what happened last year will not let it happen this. The situation being I am not able to do anything with the child without your permission. Not allowed to say anything at all to him. He knows this and uses it as a weapon, where does it put me ?? I am not your ex husband… a yes man.. until even he could take no more . "
She never answered .. was there one?? ..Fully aware what she was doing.
May have embezzled the state for many years on the dubious substance of her mental condition, but hardly fooled Peter. Most people try to.. Maybe I look stupid… in her case she had used me up.. for eight years
Her simply "dropping out " when the going became tough ..a escape used by many people.
All suddenly rather Immaterial.. Hardly remember how time went until take off.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Yes, I did go back to Pattaya back to Thailand, knowing there really was no way back with Susan.. none…
Peter's curse
People always find Peter so much as he prefers to be alone especially in public, especially in a restaurant or a shop ..if it happened to be empty it will quickly have people follow me in. Cyn and I yesterday went to a little bar, not a soul in there, hardly sat down three minutes before first a couple of people came in, followed by dribs and drabs, until within five minutes the place was quite bustling. Story of my life.. unable to go anywhere on this Planet alone ..not for very long, soon find people behind me from out of know where. First recollection of this was in Australia. Taken the kids down to the south East …Nurioopta..somewhere.. Bowling merrily along, saw a house about forty miles back, not a soul not a car for about sixty miles, not a cow ..no signs of life other than a few twisted stunted trees couple of birds maybe.. few kangaroos. .a Emu, nothing much else. Very hot ..pulled up in the little shade I was able to find . Climbed out, opened the boot, pulled all the junk out, the kids out, .the old woman out. Looked round.. there was a car parked right behind me. Within six feet ..it had crept up .. where from no one will ever know .. My first real experience of this curse. Completely amazed to see another vehicle. Within twenty minutes there were five vehicles clustered under the few trees
Same as the trip to Melbourne, taking Virginia to catch the boat to the U.K. She, Charlie, the kids and myself.. all jumped in the Customline Somewhere in Victoria saw this Lake in the distance, thought will have swim, wash the dust and dirt off, quite a long way off the road ..found the track.. nothing, nobody, not anything .. all pilled out.. naked .. looked round and there was not just a car … a articulated lorry which had evidently followed us the l mile or so down this barely obvious track. hidden in our dust The driver, sat perving, smoking a roll up. Within half a hour there were twenty or so assorted vehicles. Could not believe any of it. Even Virginia asked out loud what was going on ??..looking directly at Peter.. Maybe she aware something was.
Years later, another life later, over Springfield Park.. would take Jack there before infant school in the mornings. Played the game ..look in the Park … invariably deserted.. then would say. “Right! go in to the field down by the river Lea” sounds weird.. please yourself.. We would walk in, suddenly people would appear, one or two or three, walking their dogs .. did not walk in the distance, thirty, forty, fifty, one hundred yard away. No, they had to almost brush past me, almost touching . Something very wrong with Peter having a attraction for people that he did not want…the curse.
Lambs Conduit street, the same. Friend of mine had a delicatessen which hardly paid.. it did not pay. He looked more than depressed about this one day in particular. Said to him ..tell you what! will come and stand in your shop for ten minutes.. you will get a few punters. Gave me a funny smile ..thinking, what ….?! Anyway had nothing else much to do other than push the black box.. he hardly going anywhere either..- about eleven/twelve in the morning.. depressing time for anyone .
Strolled into the empty shop, he and his assistant stood looking at me ..that look. Then, hardly forget it.. in came a old boy after no more than a few moments, virtually followed us, typically English. Tweeds, suede shoes, trilby hat, long overcoat he was probably demobed in.. that sort of thing . Collar and tie, none too clean.
Overall he smelt of stale cigarettes.. Within twenty five minutes the place, quite full, overflowing into the restaurant below.
My skeptical friend stared, eyes over the top of the till .. I smiled …….It is called "Peter's curse, went back to the "muttering retreats"
Same as the trip to Melbourne, taking Virginia to catch the boat to the U.K. She, Charlie, the kids and myself.. all jumped in the Customline Somewhere in Victoria saw this Lake in the distance, thought will have swim, wash the dust and dirt off, quite a long way off the road ..found the track.. nothing, nobody, not anything .. all pilled out.. naked .. looked round and there was not just a car … a articulated lorry which had evidently followed us the l mile or so down this barely obvious track. hidden in our dust The driver, sat perving, smoking a roll up. Within half a hour there were twenty or so assorted vehicles. Could not believe any of it. Even Virginia asked out loud what was going on ??..looking directly at Peter.. Maybe she aware something was.
Years later, another life later, over Springfield Park.. would take Jack there before infant school in the mornings. Played the game ..look in the Park … invariably deserted.. then would say. “Right! go in to the field down by the river Lea” sounds weird.. please yourself.. We would walk in, suddenly people would appear, one or two or three, walking their dogs .. did not walk in the distance, thirty, forty, fifty, one hundred yard away. No, they had to almost brush past me, almost touching . Something very wrong with Peter having a attraction for people that he did not want…the curse.
Lambs Conduit street, the same. Friend of mine had a delicatessen which hardly paid.. it did not pay. He looked more than depressed about this one day in particular. Said to him ..tell you what! will come and stand in your shop for ten minutes.. you will get a few punters. Gave me a funny smile ..thinking, what ….?! Anyway had nothing else much to do other than push the black box.. he hardly going anywhere either..- about eleven/twelve in the morning.. depressing time for anyone .
Strolled into the empty shop, he and his assistant stood looking at me ..that look. Then, hardly forget it.. in came a old boy after no more than a few moments, virtually followed us, typically English. Tweeds, suede shoes, trilby hat, long overcoat he was probably demobed in.. that sort of thing . Collar and tie, none too clean.
Overall he smelt of stale cigarettes.. Within twenty five minutes the place, quite full, overflowing into the restaurant below.
My skeptical friend stared, eyes over the top of the till .. I smiled …….It is called "Peter's curse, went back to the "muttering retreats"
Nothing more lethal in society than a group of females...
Another preamble over.. time to press ever onwards.. With the departure of Glenna, now so very long ago, turned my full attention to Susan, the child and the business. Numerous alarms and excursions. Susan "dissatisfied" with the flat bought in Leytonstone.. she now wished to move back to Bishops Stortford of course.. near " her mother". After much running too and fro, after making a considerable profit on the property, enough to buy a somewhat tumble down cottage, long garden in the back, long garden in the front, ideal for the child, which by now she had been given full control.
On the face of it ..the "appearance " of it, things were going quiet well, Peter, of course, dutifully set to work to straighten the place out, did that which was required of him, drove up and down the M.11, went to work. During this period my eldest son and his wife made contact.. his wife and Susan were a "win double" a perfect match, even down to their ages, even down to the clothes, the taste in them …They fell immediately together ..a mutual hatred of Peter, but not immediately apparent to myself. My business doing very well making money …the criteria, engrossed. No problems other than those expected.
Gradually became apparent Susan's coffee mornings with her friends were taking some precedent over myself and the slight help she did perhaps give me, by now Jack started Kindergarten, Susan playing mother with a capital "M". Coffee in turns at each mothers' house, a cosy, lethal arrangement, the feature in their lives, when they discussed everything and everyone when they tore everything and everyone apart, evidently including myself.
I, oblivious of this initially, quite obsessed with the necessities, getting them…trying to be all the things I really was not, yet, I , for whatever reason, tried hard to fit.. to be normal…put out of my mind the obvious, obvious would never fit anywhere, however much having taken it upon myself to try.
Ignored the building processes I had been through previous, starting with Virginia and Desaumarez street.. forty years before. Before, in a far off, strange land, called Australia, this had been a disaster, what made me struggle in the belief England, Hertfordshire in particular, would be any different? ……..I hardly knew.
Quite happy in my misguided thought, Susan "adjusting" herself with her friends, where she belonged, where she belonged finaly. Not seeing the inherent danger, threat to my self.
Most men, the man next to me, all too engrossed putting things together financially.. too engrossed to see what does go on behind their backs while they are going to work , working , returning. While they are thinking, while they are wearing themselves out…….. no time, too see.
Nothing more lethal in society than a group of females, especially females who have conceived the progeny, have taken it to school, females who are young, females who have a certain look on their faces, a dissatisfaction irrespective of whatever they do have.. dissatisfaction with their lives, their husbands, this dissatisfaction pours out , released if you like, the pent up emotions, the real or imaginary frustrations. Mostly these ladies have everything, mostly they want more… something else…
Peter being Peter, pressed ever onwards, growing the roses up the front of the house. Within three years they had reached the roof, a feature ..people slowed their cars down to look. I, quite absorbed in the garden, in the child ..any thoughts regarding asking myself what exactly I was doing, where exactly I was going…….
My Turkish man quite affable, helpful, my account for the fleet maintenance covered his total overheads he smiled ebulliently at this thought ..at myself…. everyone ….. quite happy
In all this intense movement , "turmoil", if you like, rather a good word for most men's efforts, if only they were but aware of it, Susan and the other ladies going their own sweet way.
Considered she had a good life in so far as could be ascertained, understood, so far as any man understands any woman.
She would come up to London for the weekends, see her friends, her mother having the child, wander about Camden market.. all the things all the people do.
Time slipped by, Jack now four years old, I had built up quite a large fleet of taxi cabs.
Run here, run there on the motor bike, chase here, chase there more appropriate, always something too do. The M.11 on a Yamaha 650 does not take long to devour. Became deeper and deeper enmeshed in life, in living, yet some time taken out to realise Susan had drawn away from me in many respects, not enough time to ask why, what was going on.
She became cold, cold as the upstairs bedrooms, they, at times, at freezing point, I wanted to put heating up there but she "preferred it as it was.." not wishing me to get too hot in any direction, conceivably…so I froze.
On occasions, the depths of winter, unable to stand it any longer, would get up after midnight, get in the cab, start it up with enough reverberations to wake the now dead, drive through the deserted, ice/mist covered roads, back to civilization, to Clapton Common, to the flat which was never cold, take hot bath and go to bed, end of another day…….
As other men, ignored the situation, preferring it to asking why? to risk breaking down everything I had built up over the years. As other men, acquiescent, not ask too many questions, remain silent on the subject ..the women fully aware, knowing they hold all the trump cards.
Compressed and starting to show it.
Susan, as the other ladies, remained sanguine, had their coffee mornings after their men had departed into the chaos, into the miasmal distance, after the perfunctory kiss on the cheek, after the waving hands of the children.
Ten a.m. in Hertfordshire, the children taken safely to school, the only sounds are the whisperings, occasional soft laughter, the clatter of crockery, the ladies now sitting, ensconced, cigarettes poised……
..ready.
On the face of it ..the "appearance " of it, things were going quiet well, Peter, of course, dutifully set to work to straighten the place out, did that which was required of him, drove up and down the M.11, went to work. During this period my eldest son and his wife made contact.. his wife and Susan were a "win double" a perfect match, even down to their ages, even down to the clothes, the taste in them …They fell immediately together ..a mutual hatred of Peter, but not immediately apparent to myself. My business doing very well making money …the criteria, engrossed. No problems other than those expected.
Gradually became apparent Susan's coffee mornings with her friends were taking some precedent over myself and the slight help she did perhaps give me, by now Jack started Kindergarten, Susan playing mother with a capital "M". Coffee in turns at each mothers' house, a cosy, lethal arrangement, the feature in their lives, when they discussed everything and everyone when they tore everything and everyone apart, evidently including myself.
I, oblivious of this initially, quite obsessed with the necessities, getting them…trying to be all the things I really was not, yet, I , for whatever reason, tried hard to fit.. to be normal…put out of my mind the obvious, obvious would never fit anywhere, however much having taken it upon myself to try.
Ignored the building processes I had been through previous, starting with Virginia and Desaumarez street.. forty years before. Before, in a far off, strange land, called Australia, this had been a disaster, what made me struggle in the belief England, Hertfordshire in particular, would be any different? ……..I hardly knew.
Quite happy in my misguided thought, Susan "adjusting" herself with her friends, where she belonged, where she belonged finaly. Not seeing the inherent danger, threat to my self.
Most men, the man next to me, all too engrossed putting things together financially.. too engrossed to see what does go on behind their backs while they are going to work , working , returning. While they are thinking, while they are wearing themselves out…….. no time, too see.
Nothing more lethal in society than a group of females, especially females who have conceived the progeny, have taken it to school, females who are young, females who have a certain look on their faces, a dissatisfaction irrespective of whatever they do have.. dissatisfaction with their lives, their husbands, this dissatisfaction pours out , released if you like, the pent up emotions, the real or imaginary frustrations. Mostly these ladies have everything, mostly they want more… something else…
Peter being Peter, pressed ever onwards, growing the roses up the front of the house. Within three years they had reached the roof, a feature ..people slowed their cars down to look. I, quite absorbed in the garden, in the child ..any thoughts regarding asking myself what exactly I was doing, where exactly I was going…….
My Turkish man quite affable, helpful, my account for the fleet maintenance covered his total overheads he smiled ebulliently at this thought ..at myself…. everyone ….. quite happy
In all this intense movement , "turmoil", if you like, rather a good word for most men's efforts, if only they were but aware of it, Susan and the other ladies going their own sweet way.
Considered she had a good life in so far as could be ascertained, understood, so far as any man understands any woman.
She would come up to London for the weekends, see her friends, her mother having the child, wander about Camden market.. all the things all the people do.
Time slipped by, Jack now four years old, I had built up quite a large fleet of taxi cabs.
Run here, run there on the motor bike, chase here, chase there more appropriate, always something too do. The M.11 on a Yamaha 650 does not take long to devour. Became deeper and deeper enmeshed in life, in living, yet some time taken out to realise Susan had drawn away from me in many respects, not enough time to ask why, what was going on.
She became cold, cold as the upstairs bedrooms, they, at times, at freezing point, I wanted to put heating up there but she "preferred it as it was.." not wishing me to get too hot in any direction, conceivably…so I froze.
On occasions, the depths of winter, unable to stand it any longer, would get up after midnight, get in the cab, start it up with enough reverberations to wake the now dead, drive through the deserted, ice/mist covered roads, back to civilization, to Clapton Common, to the flat which was never cold, take hot bath and go to bed, end of another day…….
As other men, ignored the situation, preferring it to asking why? to risk breaking down everything I had built up over the years. As other men, acquiescent, not ask too many questions, remain silent on the subject ..the women fully aware, knowing they hold all the trump cards.
Compressed and starting to show it.
Susan, as the other ladies, remained sanguine, had their coffee mornings after their men had departed into the chaos, into the miasmal distance, after the perfunctory kiss on the cheek, after the waving hands of the children.
Ten a.m. in Hertfordshire, the children taken safely to school, the only sounds are the whisperings, occasional soft laughter, the clatter of crockery, the ladies now sitting, ensconced, cigarettes poised……
..ready.
Trip to Yugoslavia
A strange trio, odd situation perhaps,.. Glenna, Susan and myself, with Jack being fostered by a professional minder.. just up the road from Susan’s mother’s house in Bishops Stortford, we allowed to see him perhaps a couple of times a week, he apparently not at all put out, enjoying the company of the other children, the powers that be, hardly thinking Susan capable of looking after him,.. as said previously, as the father.. not even considered…then that is England, a matriarch society, a few men left who do not cling to the female skirt.
There are those gone fully the other way, openly, right to the top of government and society, perhaps now a prerequisite for any serious consideration in the twenty first century, only a faint smile remaining at any mention of Lord Byron.
In Romania they bang them up…in prison, discipline and values have not gone rotten here, may be a poor country, but they cling to what little they do posses.
For whatever reason, decided to move myself, went out and bought another old cab.. so I had two. Cornered Rodetski in the café, put it to him, he would like a ‘cheaper” cab, cheaper than he was paying, when he did pay, that is... thought could overcome his reluctance in this aspect . So, it was two cabs, Rodetski and myself…Two became three, three became five ,five became twenty two.
They were good days in the trade, early eighties. I finished up with drivers no one else wanted because of their reluctance in the cash department. For whatever reason they did pay me more or less, I, running something like a club for destitute taxi drivers so far as they were all concerned. Certainly Romeford Dave regularly painted the alternator silver and said he had bought a new one, trying to charge me the $50. Certainly he, Alan and Billy Kelly would put all the money due to me in the Granby fruit machine over a period of two days and one night, they taking shifts to pull the lever.. or one would go out working to get more money to feed the insatiable machine. In a more desperate moment Alan bandaged his arm up ..not the one he pulled the fruit machine lever with, saying he had been unable to work. Wednesday night most of the fleet parked up in a long tidy line outside Walthamstow dog track, invariably the gang would all file despondently out, having done their bollocks . It meant running about on the motor bike catching up with them at their favorite hide outs.. or going into the betting shop before they did my money. Sounds like hard work.. a very friendly atmosphere ….It paid.
Stopped doing my own repairs. found a Mr. Salih, a Turkish man and his three son’s in law…In a archway in Bethnal Green, must be several hundred railway arches doing cab repairs
In that first flush, in the first year, with a few cabs, things going so well, decided top take Susan for a holiday.. by plane , disregarding her petrified looks.. it took very little to frighten Susan , she had never flown previously …charter flight to Yugoslavia on the cheap . I had not had a holiday for years, mainly because I did not work sufficiently, hardly concerned me one way or the other, there was, however, this wind of change, my last trips abroad had been those to see Mark In LA, a long time ago.
Became quite determined to do something, go somewhere. Glenna rather upset at my not intending to take her along. Hardly saw myself handling the situation of a rather large black lady and a rather diminutive white one all dancing about together in Yugoslavia. So it became a matter of suitably bribing Glenna, everyone has a price…a consolation prize, if you like,
Remembered my Father coming down to Stony Stratford during the war, where my mother, Doris and myself were all shoved out of the way.. He brought a couple of pairs of kippers.. my mother, who was not enamoured with country life, screamed very loudly at him, she, "not wanting his consolation prize for being stuck in a dead and alive hole!!" first of all hitting him with the kippers, then a chair and finaly the kitchen table, saw him in hasty retreat into his lorry “down the roads again” burning up the diesel to Coventry.
Hardly wished Glenna to see my offering in that light, stepped carefully. Must have come up with something suitable, cannot recall what that something was .
Yugoslavia appeared rather tense, everyone at the airport carrying a weapon of some kind. The weather, quite glorious, hot. Susan apparently fully recovered from the silent months. She, looking good, dancing the nights away, the local gigolo’s queuing up for her.
Her birthday ….think she was 38.. The dining room held a couple of hundred people reminiscent of Butlin’s. It was alright, ordered up a birthday cake. In the evening they wheeled down this really quite huge cake, all the faces smiling and clapping.. happy birthday and all that jazz, Susan quite taken back, so was I , come to that. A very happy period, I became all romantic.. Can anyone imagine .. Peter ..Romantic..! must have had a touch of the Sun. The Churches made a big impression , far from the coldness of the C of E mob. We went in one of them ..suggested, off the top of my head that we became married there, do not know how we actually did not get married in that church, what finaly stopped us, we so carried away especially as I have never been one for churches since my escapade in Canterbury Cathedral when I was ten ..still that’s another story..
Rather a twist of fate I should get married just up the road.. ten years later…… to someone else, in a place called Romania. No, Susan and I never did quite make it…… which was perhaps fortunate.
################################
There are those gone fully the other way, openly, right to the top of government and society, perhaps now a prerequisite for any serious consideration in the twenty first century, only a faint smile remaining at any mention of Lord Byron.
In Romania they bang them up…in prison, discipline and values have not gone rotten here, may be a poor country, but they cling to what little they do posses.
For whatever reason, decided to move myself, went out and bought another old cab.. so I had two. Cornered Rodetski in the café, put it to him, he would like a ‘cheaper” cab, cheaper than he was paying, when he did pay, that is... thought could overcome his reluctance in this aspect . So, it was two cabs, Rodetski and myself…Two became three, three became five ,five became twenty two.
They were good days in the trade, early eighties. I finished up with drivers no one else wanted because of their reluctance in the cash department. For whatever reason they did pay me more or less, I, running something like a club for destitute taxi drivers so far as they were all concerned. Certainly Romeford Dave regularly painted the alternator silver and said he had bought a new one, trying to charge me the $50. Certainly he, Alan and Billy Kelly would put all the money due to me in the Granby fruit machine over a period of two days and one night, they taking shifts to pull the lever.. or one would go out working to get more money to feed the insatiable machine. In a more desperate moment Alan bandaged his arm up ..not the one he pulled the fruit machine lever with, saying he had been unable to work. Wednesday night most of the fleet parked up in a long tidy line outside Walthamstow dog track, invariably the gang would all file despondently out, having done their bollocks . It meant running about on the motor bike catching up with them at their favorite hide outs.. or going into the betting shop before they did my money. Sounds like hard work.. a very friendly atmosphere ….It paid.
Stopped doing my own repairs. found a Mr. Salih, a Turkish man and his three son’s in law…In a archway in Bethnal Green, must be several hundred railway arches doing cab repairs
In that first flush, in the first year, with a few cabs, things going so well, decided top take Susan for a holiday.. by plane , disregarding her petrified looks.. it took very little to frighten Susan , she had never flown previously …charter flight to Yugoslavia on the cheap . I had not had a holiday for years, mainly because I did not work sufficiently, hardly concerned me one way or the other, there was, however, this wind of change, my last trips abroad had been those to see Mark In LA, a long time ago.
Became quite determined to do something, go somewhere. Glenna rather upset at my not intending to take her along. Hardly saw myself handling the situation of a rather large black lady and a rather diminutive white one all dancing about together in Yugoslavia. So it became a matter of suitably bribing Glenna, everyone has a price…a consolation prize, if you like,
Remembered my Father coming down to Stony Stratford during the war, where my mother, Doris and myself were all shoved out of the way.. He brought a couple of pairs of kippers.. my mother, who was not enamoured with country life, screamed very loudly at him, she, "not wanting his consolation prize for being stuck in a dead and alive hole!!" first of all hitting him with the kippers, then a chair and finaly the kitchen table, saw him in hasty retreat into his lorry “down the roads again” burning up the diesel to Coventry.
Hardly wished Glenna to see my offering in that light, stepped carefully. Must have come up with something suitable, cannot recall what that something was .
Yugoslavia appeared rather tense, everyone at the airport carrying a weapon of some kind. The weather, quite glorious, hot. Susan apparently fully recovered from the silent months. She, looking good, dancing the nights away, the local gigolo’s queuing up for her.
Her birthday ….think she was 38.. The dining room held a couple of hundred people reminiscent of Butlin’s. It was alright, ordered up a birthday cake. In the evening they wheeled down this really quite huge cake, all the faces smiling and clapping.. happy birthday and all that jazz, Susan quite taken back, so was I , come to that. A very happy period, I became all romantic.. Can anyone imagine .. Peter ..Romantic..! must have had a touch of the Sun. The Churches made a big impression , far from the coldness of the C of E mob. We went in one of them ..suggested, off the top of my head that we became married there, do not know how we actually did not get married in that church, what finaly stopped us, we so carried away especially as I have never been one for churches since my escapade in Canterbury Cathedral when I was ten ..still that’s another story..
Rather a twist of fate I should get married just up the road.. ten years later…… to someone else, in a place called Romania. No, Susan and I never did quite make it…… which was perhaps fortunate.
################################
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