Stan fell asleep in front of the roaring fire.Emile lay across his lap.Emile was so limp he looked like a wet towel slung casually over the old man’s knees.It was Stan’s birthday but no party had been arranged.He was struck that Mary had not baked a cake..nor even bought one at the Co-op.
That was no surprise really as he did all the cooking including Bakewell tarts and Xmas cake,He was a versatile man who could also mend old radios and fix clocks that were stuck one time….usually the wrong one! He also spent quite a lot of time giving statistics lessons to pensioners and kissing his blonde mistress,Anne who lived next door. He decided that being so near her was a big advantage given his age. Suddenly he was awakened by chuckles and giggles,There were Mary and Anne holding a big iced cake and a pot of tea.The doorbell rang and in came all Stan’s friends from his Art class.Mary produced sandwiches and pork pies,sausage rolls and potato cakes. How did you do this,he enquired dazedly? We did it all in Anne’s oven.She has two so it was quite easy. Mary was not jealous of Anne for Mary would rather read Principia Mathematica than go to bed with Stan.Apparently she was mildly autistic but she was happy doing maths as many of her co-workers had the same syndrome. She did have one daughter whom she found hidden in a gooseberry bush in the garden.This was enough for Stan as he was 92.But luckily he did have a good gold plated pension of £390.09 per month. Everyone was having a fabulous time until Anne tried to light the candles on the cake.No matches could be found. Ring 999,Stan called childishly.Mary obeyed and soon the ambulance drew up. In ran Dave the trisexual paramedic. Is it your chair? he enquired wildly. No,it’s this cake.We can’t light the candles on it.Shall we douse it in petrol? We have a jerry can full of it in the spare room. That is very dangerous,he shouted. Well,we are old now and need the car badly.Risk assessment gave us evens on the odds. Dave produced a silver lighter and lit the candles.Then he conducted them all as they sang, ”Happy Birthday” to Stan.Stan managed to blow out 90 candles before passing out on the rug. Well,at least he didn’t break the chair,Mary said philosophically. I wish he had,said Dave. I’ve got some superglue here. Well,we do have a wardrobe that’s falling apart.would you like to mend it? Sure ,he replied gratefully.This is why we have the NHS! We are here for you 24/7 Or come to A and E if you get a mouth ulcer or a cold sore.No problem is too small!
Stan came to on the rug with Emile beside him.He gazed deeply into the cat’s green eyes. I think I’ve fallen in love with you,he informed the Emile. Will you sleep with me and let Mary have your basket. Are we engaged,said Emile. Definitely,said Stan.I’ll get you a golden collar with diamonds on it. When shall we be married? As soon as it’s legal,Stan answered honestly. In the meantime,we’ll have to live in sin. Then he fell asleep again with Emile in his arms. What a lovely picture, cried the ladies. Look at this.What a happy sight. What love,what devotion. How strange,what a commotion. They’re in love,what emotion. Don’t tell the Pope,we need caution
Mary was sitting at her desk trying to decide whether to throw out a book called Schrodinger ‘s equation for idiots.The title had more than one meaning, she thought to herself. I think that is for the recycling bin, she told her cat, Emile.What a pity you can’t read.You could have read it. I don’t want to read stuff like that.I only like Dad’s cartoon books. Where are they, Mary asked him, her eyes shining like melting Danish butter on a hot croissant? They are in that plastic box in the kitchen, Emile told her.I read them at night. How can you read if there is no light?Please don’t start sinning as I don’t want you to have to become a Catholic. I can’t become a Catholic, said Emile.I am Jewish. Well, St Paul was Jewish, Mary told him.Until he had an epileptic fit . So having a fit can make you a Christian.That is very strange, the black cat told her with a twinkle in his eyes Well, it’s not automatic, Mary replied.You have to pay .What, pay to become a Christian, I don’t believe Jesus would like that. Well , he may be quite indulgent, sometimes Mary giggled.However, the Vatican and its wealth might not be quite what he was thinking of when he gave the Sermon on the Mount. What sort of mount was it , Emile enquired.Was it a horse? No, it was more likely to have been a donkey as he was poor, you know But he had things money can’t buy, the cat said philosophically.Like women who poured oil over his feet.What sort was it,?Was it like that stuff Stan put in the car engine sometimes? Don’t be so ridiculous.It was olive oil, Mary told him Can we prove that, Emile murmured? His feet were no salad No, I am using inductive reasoningMary stated logically.Olive trees are grown in that part of the world even now. What is inductive reasoning, Emile mewed Why it’s the opposite of deductive reasoning, of course, Mary stated flatly I am glad I can’t read, Emile said. It’s bad for you to have to learn all of that.It was ok for the ancient Greeks.They had no televisions.I’d rather watch Andrea Bocelli and Hayley Westenra singing Vivo per lei.Whatever that means.She is from New Zealand by the way. What difference does that make Mary teased him? No need to be rude, Emile cried.I was only passing a remark That was what Stan’s mother used to say when he told her off for saying my maple mousse was like something out of a tin. Where was it from?The Joy of Cookery. a big American cook book or maybe Jewish Cookery by Florence Greenberg or Marks and Spencers Did you get that book because I am Jewish, Emile purred? No, I didn’t even know you were.How did it happen? My mother was living with a Rabbi in Liverpool and he told her she could not miaow on the Sabbath so she kind of assumed she was Jewish.As for my father.. nobody knows. Emile, don’t start saying you are the Messiah.I have enough trouble already.I don’t want you to be walking on water and helping women taken in adulteryI was not me who took them, said Emile.I don’t even know where Adultery is. I think I’ll ring 999.We need help before we go mad. Sometimes going mad seems the better option, Mary said sadly.A few voices telling me what to do might be helpfulAs long as they are not Michael Grove and Horace Watson, Emile replied. And so say all of us
I saw you struggling with your walking frame Guessed that you must suffer too much pain I smiled because you caught my sidewards glance Then your face too by smiling was enhanced
So often older people are ignored Lost and lonely hidden at the core Once this man fought in a major war I hope by some fine friend he was restored
I saw him disappearing down the road His posture more erect, his back less bowed And in my heart I felt the smiling too Enchanted by the essence , by the cue.
I got on a bus, ignored my phone, Smiling still I pushed the door key home
The life boat crew are safely home They’ve brought the shipwrecked sailors too. The storm has passed, the wind has dropped The sea is swaying softly now.
Wrapped in soft night clothes, their offspring Are all in world of dream still lost. Their fathers’ safely home this time. They save wrecked ships despite the cost.
Will any lifeboat crew be there To help less blessed ones from despair, And lives, too many , spent in care No fathers and no mothers near?
The sea we certainly must fear, But more we fear the acts of those Who try to buy our minds and wills, For votes in the election booths.
Oh hush my baby, go to sleep, It is your mammy’s job to weep. I wish I knew just what to do To empower the lives of wains like you.
Sleep well, sleep well, my little child. The sun will rise, the air is mild. We’ll trust that when we all set sail Our love and courage will not fail.
Oh,hush my sweet one, I am near. The world’s too big for bairns to bear. We’ll do much better this time round. We’ll not let this boat run aground.
How my heart sings 