Twist in the Tail   Leave a comment

Cathleen skipped through the kitchen in her aerobics gear. Marty looked up from his paper as she passed.

“So you’re off then?”

“Yes.”

“What time will you be back?”

“I don’t know. I might go for coffee, and do some shopping afterwards.”

Marty didn’t reply. He sat and glanced at the paper for a while, but couldn’t concentrate. Cathleen had been much happier of late, and seemed to be enjoying life without him. Where once she was happy to stay at home to bake, launder and clean; this didn’t seem to satisfy her any more. Even when she was at home, she spent a lot of time in the bedroom. He didn’t know what she did in there, and he didn’t like to ask. But his curiosity and suspicions were eating away at him. He needed to know. Marty got up decisively and made his way to the bedroom.

As soon as he entered the bedroom he started to sneeze. Marty pulled a tissue out of his pocket and looked around. There seemed nothing out of the ordinary; but there was a noticeable whiff in the room. He pulled out a drawer in a locker beside the bed, and spied a small ornate key in a corner under a make-up bag. With the key in his hand Marty searched around for something that would aptly suit it. He looked in the wardrobe, in the en-suite, and the chest of drawers to no avail. Eventually he decided to look under the bed, secreting the key in his pocket first.

The smell under the bed was overwhelming. Marty gagged as he stretched his hand in amongst shoe and boxes to his prize, a large black leather-bound diary. As he did so he saw two bright eyes looking at him in the dark confines of this netherworld. Distracted, Marty put his hand into something unpleasant….. Poo! The eyes moved towards him, he heard a cat’s yowl, and then the cat struck. A paw flew out and scrawled him down his cheek. Marty yelled, and hit his head off the bed, which made him yell again. He crawled backwards, with the diary in one hand, poo on the other, and blood dripping from his face. Once he was free, Marty ran to the bathroom to wash his hands and face.

When he got back into the kitchen, the cat was skulking in a corner near the door. It was big and fluffy, with a black body, and a black and white face. It hissed at Marty, and Marty started sneezing again. He threw open the back door, and the cat hightailed it into next door’s garden. Marty slammed the door and settled down to read the diary.

He took the key from his pocket and placed it in the keyhole of the heart-shaped brass lock. Marty turned the key and heard a click as it unlocked the secrets within. As he read, his face got redder. Apparently he was boring, overbearing, and a pain to live with. She was fed-up doing his cooking and washing, and with his petty house rules; she wanted to escape, to have some excitement, keep a cat if she wanted to, and mentioned that she had met someone special.

Marty sat back and contemplated everything he had read. It had been hurtful and hard to read such things. He tried to make excuses to himself, to proportion blame on her, but at last admitted that some of it was true. Marty stared at the diary, feeling sad and deflated. He wished he had never opened it now. The truth was out and he couldn’t put it away again.  Something had to be done.

So, the diary was returned, the poo cleared up, washing put on and the house tidied. But the cat was still an issue; Marty was allergic to cats and always had been. Cathleen had found that out when she had cats previously. But he had to get the cat back before Cathleen got back; so he went out and made kissing type noises to try and attract it. The cat poked its head through the hedge, and then approached gingerly. Marty gathered the cat up into his arms, and sneezed.

Just then Cathleen came in the back gate accompanied by a tall good-looking man. She eyed Marty in amazement.

“Oh, you’ve met Betsy then. This is George, a very good friend of mine from the Active Retirement Group. George, meet my son Marty.”

Marty passed the cat to his mother, sneezed, and shook hands with George.

Over a cup of tea, Cathleen explained that she and Betsy were going to move in with George; but that it was only in the next street.  Betsy had been a stray that Cathleen hadn’t been able to say no to. Marty wished her the best, and said that he was happy for her.

“Well, that went better than I thought it would. And he had the place cleaned up,” Cathleen remarked afterwards to George, as they made their way to George’s house with Betsy.

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Posted June 10, 2014 by eileenmoynihan in Uncategorized

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