The weather in Knittingham was rather hot.Mary was away giving a lecture on Dirac’s hat in Oxford and Stan felt lonely.He rang Annie but she was out.
So he said to Emile
I am going to bed early.Have you had enough to eat?
Definitely,cried Emile,who had just licked all the cream off two meringues inthe larder.So Stan went upstairs.He took off all his clothes and admired his thin body in the mirror.
Not bad for 97,he muttered.
Now what shall I put on? He found his pyjamas too hot so on an impulse he opened Mary’s wardrobe and found a cotton nightdress.It was a bit big for him but definitely cooler than  his pyjamas.He cleaned his teeth and washed himself before falling into bed with,The Other Ariel a book about Sylvia Plath’s poetry and how Ted Hughes had altered the order of her poems and even removed some from the book .Ariel,which made her name.The doorbell rang.Each time it played a different tune out of the 90 in its repertoire.
He  ran downstairs and opened the door.There stood two policemen.
They stared a the handsome old man with elegant hands
Hello.Sir.I hope we have not interrupted you?
No,I am just reading in bed.on my own
Do you always wear a nightgown?
This is the first time,he told them humorously.I felt very hot so I decided to wear my wife’s gown.
And just  where is your wife?
What’s it got to do with you,he enquired  unceremoniously.
Just tell us,the older policeman said brusquely
She’s at a conference in Oxford giving a talk.About Dirac or Riemann or another nitwit.
Can we come in? the policeman said.
May we come in,Stan corrected him,not a good idea on the whole,especially in the USA where the police have guns.Luckily all  our police have  here are rubber gloves in case people ask them to wash up after having a  cup of tea.
What is wrong? said Stan.
We have found a naked woman walking  in the High Street.She says a man stole her clothes.For various reasons we think it might be you.
But  if she was in the High Street she’d  be in proper clothes not a nightdress,surely ,Stan  murmured.
But you like women’s clothes….. we can see.
No,I don’t,  the old man shouted.I told you I was too hot.And in my own home I can wear anything I like.Sometimes I wear a  prayer shawl
Are you Jewish? they asked.
Only a little, but I inherited it from a great grandfather who married out.
Out of what? the police asked
He married out of his faith.He was longing  for a bacon sandwich.
Surely marrying  just to eat a bacon sandwich is a bit over the top.
Well,that was his story.Maybe he was tired of obeying the Ten Commandments so he broke most of them.
Which ones?
He committed adultery once when his wife had a nervous breakdown ; he lost his head and went to bed with his neighbour’s wife.
And  where was his neighbour?
At the psychiatric unit visiting my great grandmother.Stan admitted uneasily.
Well,at such times we all do odd things,the  older policeman  advised him.
Thank you for your frankness,Sir.I can see you are not a criminal.
Thank the Lord,said Stan as he went into the kitchen and put the kettle on to make a cup of tea to save ringing 999
I am lucky not to be in a cell and Mary would have had to come home.She would have been cross, he told Emile.Anyway monks wear habits.
But who had stolen the clothes off the woman in town? A mystery  to be studied with Annie when she got home.
At last Stan relaxed and went back to bed with  his books
This is the last time I  ever wear a nightdress he whispered to Emile who was  by his side.
And so hope all of us.

Stan had decided to do  some  baking.

• The larder was empty
  the cupboard was bare
  he looked in the cake tin
  but  nothing was there.
  Stan had flour,eggs and sugar and of course milk and butter.Emile was under the table waiting for something to drip out of the bowl!He loved baking days.
  Stan had bought a load of blackberries in the market so he was thinkin of blackberry tarts,blackberry crumble..
  He picked up the bag which seemed very heavy.Putting his hand in …..he pulled out a Blackberry!
  He went to the market
  to buy me some fruit
  and now he’s got Blackberries
  he’s going to shoot!
  Annie his next door neighbour was coming to the back door.
  “What’s wrong,Petal?””Oh,dear.I seem to have made a category error.”Stan answered philosophically.
  “Well what category would you put me into?” she asked petulantly.
  “Why are you so egocentric ?Not everything is about you!”He said fluently.
  “Well if I’m narcissistic it’s because my infant grandiosity was ruptured too suddenly and I was not held and contained in a suitable manner.”
  “You’ve been reading that Wilfred Bion again.” Stan said admiringly.
  “No,not just him.It’s some American chap as well .Would you like to read it?”
  “No,thanks,I’m finding Julia Segal is more than enough for me.I find Bion is a bit too mystical.I don’t think I can approach you without memory or desire.To be honest,without memory or desire I wouldn’t want to approach you.”
  “Wow ” she said stupidly,her large green eyes staring avidly upon him inviting him to fall into their salty sea like depths.
  “Shall I ring 999?I can’t think of anything to say.I’m lost for words.”
  “Perhaps you have reached that mystical spot beneath language mostly only known to babies,the mad, or meditators?”
  “Well,I do feel a bit of madness today.”
  “Is that why you have purple and orange eyes-hadow on clashing with your alarazin crimson lipstick and your light beige, but not too light, foundation by Lancome of Brixton and Blackheath,Paris,Rome,and London?”
  “I suppose so.” she replied indifferently.I feel as if I’m behind a glass wall.”
  “Oh,don’t worry.That’s the new window!” Stan explained courteously.”You really are behind a glass wall.You’ve been reading schizoid processes again on Yahoo,”
  “Yes,” she admitted her face blushing violently.
  “It’s those new people who’ve moved in across the road.They are both psychoanalysts so I wanted to feel up to their level of knowledge.”
  “I didn’t know they were psychoanalysts.How did you find ”
  Well,first of all,there were two large sofas, and then hundreds of knitting needles and a lorryful of wool.And I thought,
  “Hello,hello,It must be one of Anna Freud’s followers.”
  “So have you met them?” he asked laconically?
  “Yes”,she confessed animatedly .
  QI went over and said,Sprechen Sie Deutsch?”
  “And what did he say?”
  “Are you all mad round here?”
  “So I thought,”You’re not getting hold of me that easily.””
  ” I said “I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m am an admirer of Melanie Klein,”
  “Oh,how did they react to that?”Stan quizzed her jovially.
  “He was so rude.He said,
  “Are you telling me you’re a lesbian as well as a lunatic?”
  “Oh,dear.No wonder your make up is all running off your face and disappearing down your cleavage.Why don’t you pop upstairs and have a bath?”
  “Well it’s either that or ringing 999>My self is totally divided.”
  “Into equal parts?”
  “I can’t say” she murmured.
  “Oh,well” said Stan “you sit there with Emile and I shall make a Victoria sponge and a lemon drizzle cake without the lemon…I’ve only got bananas and they don’t drizzle.
  “Why not adapt to reality and make a banana loaf?”
  “Is that wise?” Stan enquired.
  “Wise or not,it seems to make sense.” she whispered coyly.”Get a move on or Mary will be back on her Raleigh shopper bicycle and there’ll be no cake for tea.
  “Thank you,honey.”Stan replied. “I am filled with memory and desire.”
  “And quite right too,”mioawed Emile from his basket.”I’m like that every night!”
  “And so are all of us,”Annie twittered on one of Stan’s new  blackberries