Mary was going out for a meal with some former colleagues who had taught underfunctioning analysis and triquacking theory.She stood in her bedroom, surrounded by piles of clothes, wondering how hot the restaurant might be and how cold and frosty the air in the road by the bus stop.
I think I’ll phone Pete she told herself.
Pete answered on the first ring.After so many years, she still recognised his semi- South African accent and pleasing,humorous voice
Hello,it’s Mary Dear-Brown here, she said shyly.
Hello Mary Dear-Brown, he responded instantly
Why, he sounds like the Amazon website, she thought to herself.That figures!
Hello Pete, I was wondering if you could give me a lift to the restaurant tonight
You don’t need a lift, it’s on the ground floor, he informed her quietly and sensitively
I mean in your car.I can’t drive now.
Why not? he said testily.
Actually, I never took the Test because I always drove very fast
Why didn’t you use the brakes? he teased her.I reckon you might have passed.
I stopped the car and vowed never to drive again but now it is a problem with Stan dead.I can get a cab if you are too busy
Well, what time do you suggest we meet? Shall I come earlier?
Why does he say that,she pondered
No, it will take ages to put all my clothes away.I can’t make up my mind what to wear.
Why not just copy Hilary Clinton? he asked
I must not buy any more clothes.Shall I dress smartly? Or smart casual or unsmart?
I know, said Pete.Shut your eyes and pick up 3 things off the bed and then wear those.
Mary closed her eyes.When she opened them she had a pair of Arran legwarmers, a green silk shirt and a black pleated Windsmoor initiation silk skirt.
I suppose if I wear my new long camel coat, the leg warmers will be hidden, she whispered.She took a bottle of dandruff shampoo and washed her light gold locks and then waxed her bikini line by mistake.
My goodness, why and how did I ever think of doing that, she pondered ruefully?And in the winter who wears a bikini?
Dressed in her almost pure silk outfit, the legwarmers hidden under thigh high red leather boots, she created a buzz in the restaurant as she climbed in through the window followed by Pete in his yellow wool suit,shirt and green tie.
Why did you come in via the window, asked Tom McDonne, the former head of the maths department.
We didn’t see any doors, she cried gaily.And Mossad wants more women agents so I thought MI5 might like to see me.
Who is this Mossad, Tom asked angrily?
It’s the Israeli intelligence service.You must have heard of them.
But they don’t want old people! Tom told her ignorantly
That’s why we came through the window, so if any spies are here they will see how agile I am still.And I still know what uncountable infinity is.Aleph, aleph.Null.
Tom led them to a long table.
Wow, it’s a log table Mary screamed.I’ve not seen one for years.
Well, with computers and such like we don’t really need them anymore, Tom revealed.
Are they real logs, she queried.
No, they are vinyl, the waiter admitted furtively.Easier to wash.
Mother never washed my log tables, Mary told the men impudently.
Let’s order some food, Tom said, as they all sat down
I fancy the Polish Hussar Roast, he admitted.
What has a Polish Hussar ever done to you, Mary asked?
Nothing yet but I live in hope
And so do all of
How my heart sings 