Two More Tales

Now that our family has expanded we are finding far less time to go out visiting added to which the twins want feeding every four hours at the moment, so we stay at home and remember things we did in the last four years. On Sunday evening we got out the camcorder to remind ourselves of some of the places we went. There was a short clip that neither of us could place. It showed me hiding behind a tree and then running across a meadow followed by some unstable shots of the sky. It went blank then showed two minutes of a close–up of some grass with a spider climbing over the plants.
Eventually we managed to place it. Early on in our friendship we had taken sandwiches and a flask intending to spend the day watching some balloonists. After polishing off the food and drink we had spent a lazy hour lying on our backs watching the balloons. It goes without saying that we were also playing ‘Hold it’. Robert tells me that I had been about to cheat by wandering off to hide behind a tree whilst letting off the pressure but he had known what was happening and taken the shots to prove when I had taken the opportunity to let go. That explained the sight of me by the tree. Robert had shouted, “This man will see what you are doing.” I had run off to find a more secluded spot and Robert had got up to follow me but fell down almost straightaway. Recovering himself and the camera he had been about to continue his filming when his imaginary man had turned into a real one and he had tried to convince the newcomer that he was a naturalist by taking the shots of whatever was right in front of him, the spider. He’d taken the shots lying down partly to make it seem more probable but also because in his fall he had wet himself and didn’t want to stand up and be caught.
You’ll remember the tale of the day Robert agreed to marry me. It was when we went to the agricultural show and I peed in the exhibition tent and got covered in filth from all the animals. To my way of thinking it had a wonderful ending but the ‘Owl and the pussy cat’ story wasn’t mentioned. Robert had decided that I ought to have a ring to help remember what he had promised, as if I might forget.
That dreadful man with the van full of pig manure had asked Robert to go round to his smallholding to help load a litter of piglets which were going to market and instead of paying for the service gave him one of the old–fashioned rings that used to be put in pigs noses to stop them rooting. It was a bit of a curiosity so Robert accepted it happily enough. On his way home he had called in to buy my ring so he arrived back at the house with two of them. It would have been just like him to offer me the pig’s one by mistake but as he was fumbling in his pockets and I was making a shrewd guess at what would come next he found the wrong ring and wouldn’t spoil the occasion by making a joke of it. He had said, “I’ve got something for you here.” When he discovered the error he believed he must have left my ring in the van and excused himself to go and look for it.
Indoors I waited eagerly but he was gone so long I thought something must be wrong. I went to the door to look for him and saw he was talking to the driver of a car stopped at his gate. “Quick” he shouted, “bring the car keys and the boat keys, we’ve got to go and rescue the boat, it’s been set adrift.”
I’m as fond of the boat as he is so I accepted that this was a genuine emergency. Off we went and there was the boat on the wrong side of the canal bobbing about in the rushes. The plan was to simply cross the intervening field and retrieve it. The edge was marshy so I held back but Robert took a run and leapt across the gap. With that the wind gusted and the boat turned out into the canal and drifted off leaving me in the field with its keys and Robert ten yards away.
“Don’t throw them, wait till it drifts in again.” It stayed well out and moved on. I followed. Twice it came close to the edge but drifted off at the last moment. On the second occasion Robert held the boathook out to me intending for me to pull, gently, and bring it to shore. I misunderstood and tried to hang the keys on it. There it was tantalizingly close but unattainable.
I’d love to have caught it because I wanted to wee and with the onlookers at the opposite side that was not possible. The wind took over again and the boat went across to their side leaving me in the field. They took the rope and Robert duly thanked them. I could see no way other than to walk round by the bridge a mile up the canal. I’ll have to cut this story short because my walk took much longer than expected. I couldn’t find a way out of the field except by going through the gate we had used to get in and that added a lot to the journey, what’s more it was a cold day and I only had a thin blouse. So when I reached the boat with the keys I was shivering and needing a wee worse than ever.
Before that could happen we had to turn it round which is difficult in a wind and needs two people, one to work the engine and the other to take the rope. By the time we had returned to our mooring spot we had been away from home for well over an hour and I really was bursting.
The man who had come to tell us what had happened owned the boat beside ours and seeing how cold I was he said I should come in and warm up and of course that meant a cup of tea. His boat is called something like Brown Owl, which explains another part of the title to the tale.
Now I’ll tell how the pussycat comes into it, we’ve already introduced the ring from the ‘piggy wig’s nose’, it was still in Robert’s pocket, along with my engagement ring if only he’d known. When I look back at my parts in these ‘sports’ I see that I seldom do anything outrageous till I’m completely incapable of holding out any longer, till then I’m too shy to mention it in company so I dutifully went for the cup of tea hoping it would be a short one.
The man was a posh sort of person, I think he may have a title or be ‘the honorable something’, but he is always very helpful so we don’t mind his funny way of talking. His wife has a posh cat called ‘Darling’ and Darling lives on the boat whenever they are on it. So while we waited, Robert played with the cat. First he dangled a bit of string, and then he fiddled in his pocket, took out a ring and tied it to the string for the cat to chase.
My Robert does make some awesome mistakes. He thought that the only ring he had was the one from the pig. You would guess right if you anticipated that it was mine and not the pig’s. I knew that but somehow Robert didn’t. There Darling was savaging it. I couldn’t tell him because I wasn’t supposed to know about it yet.
The tea arrived and Robert gave up playing and allowed the cat to have its victim while he concentrated on the posh man’s conversation. What they said went by me completely as I watched the cat going off under the chair with the string. When the tea was finished Robert stood to leave because he sensed that I was feeling awkward and assuming I wanted to wee he made the exit briskly with me trying to draw attention to the cat and its plaything but it did no good and we bustled off. “I’ll soon have you back love, I’ve got a surprise for you when we get home.”
Afterwards you always think of a way to have done things but there and then I was at a loss. In the car I started “That ring…”
Robert interrupted, “Its OK the cat won’t swallow it, I’ll collect it this afternoon when I’ve given you your surprise. Just hold your water for a few more minutes.” We were already home when he fumbled about in the car looking for the proper ring. “You go on in I’ll be with you in a minute.”
So, helplessly, I got out and intended to have a wee then tell him what he’d done. Once again I was thwarted. Robert had left the house key on the boat. For two pins I would have let go on the driveway but thought better of it, if I went back it would still be possible to wee on the boat.
The house key sat waiting for us and I made for the loo glad to be able to ease the pressure when Mr. Posh appeared with the ring. He held it up and Robert recognized it. “How did you get that it’s…” Mr. Posh admired the plain gold and admonished Robert for giving it to the cat. Robert was so confused that he hurriedly took it and dropped it in his pocket and said nothing but that it was very precious and he had no idea how he had come to give it to the cat.
Mr. Posh accepted this quite equably and left. As he turned to go I made for the toilet but Robert caught my hand in passing and with his pathetic contrite look he began, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it to happen like this but look I’ve got something for you. I do love you and I would dearly like us to spend the rest of our days together so I’ve had something written on this little… where is it… ahh! If you still want to marry me in a year’s time then this is the token of my promise.” He smiled so tenderly and fished the pig’s ring from his pocket without looking at it he handed it to me and I stared. He stared back looking as if the end of the world had arrived. “Don’t you want it?”
“Yes but…” He looked even worse, blinking back the tears. It was too much for me. “Oh my poor dear Robert it’s…” I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what he’d done so I accepted the pigs’ ring and held my hand up for him to put it on. Then he could see the difference in size and was covered in confusion. Again he delved in his pocket and this time he did it properly.
I accepted my engagement ring whilst desperately trying not to cry or pee. I could hardly say a quick thank you and rush off to the loo. So I admired it and read the words inscribed on the inside. They are private.
It would have been best if I had kissed him ardently but as ever his ability to make a blunder prevented it. He had been on the verge of tears and at the moment I tried to kiss him he turned aside and our heads met with a resounding thwack. Lucky for me I was against the cabin bunk and sat down suddenly but Robert must have been knocked half senseless (the other half you might say). He stumbled and fell sideways against the table rolling forwards off it, grabbed at something to steady himself and found the handle of an empty saucepan on the stove so as he fell he came down with the saucepan in his hand.
He dropped to his knees and the saucepan gave an almighty clang as it hit the floor with all his weight behind it. I know he was stunned for he took a long time to see why I laughed when he apologized by saying “Oh I’ve dropped another clanger.” Then I really did kiss him as I’ve never kissed him before or since. To say thank you and I love you with all my heart and I kept at it for as long as I had breath.
His lack of response told me at last that he really was quite badly hurt, not so much his feelings but his head. He was so befuddled that I had to lower him to the bunk where he slumped in a daze. Our crazy, turbulent love life took another of its unforeseen turns when I realized that he had some degree of concussion. In a bit of a panic I called to Mr. Posh who came running. What I said was “I’ve just kissed Robert and I think he’s passed out”.
Mr. Posh was nonplussed but with aristocratic calm he took charge of the situation and undertook to run him to the hospital. That was where I eventually managed to have a wee at three in the afternoon having been holding on since ten in the morning. Robert’s skull was all right and he recovered his sense enough by the evening to walk down to the boat and thank Mr. Posh and retrieve the car.
While he was gone I cooked him a pie. As we ate he told how Mr. Posh had gradually put together the incoherent tale I had told him. His wife had been fascinated by the thought of a girl so powerfully attractive that a single kiss could throw a grown man into a dead faint. So ends the tale of the Owl and the pussycat and the ring from the piggy wig’s nose. It was a mince pie and we ate it with runcible spoons. No we did not dance hand in hand on the edge of the canal nor have we a pea green boat.
All my Love, May
Robert and May