in fact he was a total mess so it was little wonder he wasn’t lucky with the ladies. He had to blame someone for his lack of success and of course that someone was Katy.
“Everything’s fallen apart since my wife left me,” he moaned to anyone who’d listen. “Even though she betrayed me I’d have her back in a heartbeat. I love her you see. I’ve always loved her and I always will.”
It was a load of rubbish, of course, he only loved himself, but it sounded good and sometimes a sympathetic listener would buy him a drink. In reality he was seething. His rage at Katy’s flight grew and grew until he could stand it no more. Drunk, and in a fit of temper, he kicked in the glass door of the jeweller’s shop in the high street only to pass out on the pavement before he had the chance to steal anything. Then, when the police tried to arrest him, he threw a punch which clipped one of the officers on the chin sending him sprawling. He tried his sob story on the local magistrate, but to no avail.
“You cannot blame your wife for your appalling behaviour,” the magistrate said. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been drunk and disorderly and I’m afraid it’s unlikely to be the last. On previous occasions you’ve been let off with a warning. However, on this occasion, you assaulted a police officer and that cannot go unpunished. I sentence you to two hundred hours of community service. Think yourself lucky that you’ve been spared a custodial sentence. Do not appear before me again.”
Gordon hung his head in mock shame. Silly old fart, he thought. I won’t ever appear here again. I’ll track down Katy and remind her she’s my wife and when I catch up with her, she won’t get away from me again. Gordon drank and drank and became drunker and drunker, but through the cloud of alcohol and self pity he hatched a plan.
…
After an endless round of filling out forms, interviews by government officials and charity workers and visits to charity shops, Katy was eventually moved into her flat on Friday. By then she was the proud owner of a nearly new double bed, a pine table with four matching chairs and an old but comfortable sofa. A mishmash of crockery, cutlery, pots and pans, in fact practically everything she’d need to run a home, arrived in dribs and drabs throughout the day. The elderly lady who was now her neighbour handed in a sieve.
“They never give you a strainer,” she explained. “When I first moved in I couldn’t even strain my peas. My name is Mrs. Alison and I’m eighty-two years old. I’m old enough to be most folk’s granny, though I don’t have children myself. Everyone round here calls me Granny Alison so you can call me that too. The concierge told me you were moving in so I got an extra steak slice from ‘Gregg’s’. Come in for your dinner at six o’clock. You never feel like cooking when you first move in because there are always too many other things to deal with.”
Katy was touched by the gesture. Steak slice from Gregg’s maybe wouldn’t have been her first choice for dinner, but the idea of some company and not having to cook appealed to her and it was always a good idea to get to know your neighbours. Granny Alison was slim and strong looking. She had a forceful manner and looked much younger than her years. Katy accepted the kind invitation and thanked the old lady, then she went indoors to organise the flat as well as she could before taking the lift down to the lobby. She’d noticed that near to her apartment block were a handful of shops which included a newsagent and general store and she made her way there. Within the small line of shops was a launderette, an off-licence and a bookmaker and all were busy. Surprisingly, for the city centre, surrounding the blocks of flats, were grassy areas and in some places play areas for children.
As she walked along the street she was aware of many
“Everything’s fallen apart since my wife left me,” he moaned to anyone who’d listen. “Even though she betrayed me I’d have her back in a heartbeat. I love her you see. I’ve always loved her and I always will.”
It was a load of rubbish, of course, he only loved himself, but it sounded good and sometimes a sympathetic listener would buy him a drink. In reality he was seething. His rage at Katy’s flight grew and grew until he could stand it no more. Drunk, and in a fit of temper, he kicked in the glass door of the jeweller’s shop in the high street only to pass out on the pavement before he had the chance to steal anything. Then, when the police tried to arrest him, he threw a punch which clipped one of the officers on the chin sending him sprawling. He tried his sob story on the local magistrate, but to no avail.
“You cannot blame your wife for your appalling behaviour,” the magistrate said. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been drunk and disorderly and I’m afraid it’s unlikely to be the last. On previous occasions you’ve been let off with a warning. However, on this occasion, you assaulted a police officer and that cannot go unpunished. I sentence you to two hundred hours of community service. Think yourself lucky that you’ve been spared a custodial sentence. Do not appear before me again.”
Gordon hung his head in mock shame. Silly old fart, he thought. I won’t ever appear here again. I’ll track down Katy and remind her she’s my wife and when I catch up with her, she won’t get away from me again. Gordon drank and drank and became drunker and drunker, but through the cloud of alcohol and self pity he hatched a plan.
…
After an endless round of filling out forms, interviews by government officials and charity workers and visits to charity shops, Katy was eventually moved into her flat on Friday. By then she was the proud owner of a nearly new double bed, a pine table with four matching chairs and an old but comfortable sofa. A mishmash of crockery, cutlery, pots and pans, in fact practically everything she’d need to run a home, arrived in dribs and drabs throughout the day. The elderly lady who was now her neighbour handed in a sieve.
“They never give you a strainer,” she explained. “When I first moved in I couldn’t even strain my peas. My name is Mrs. Alison and I’m eighty-two years old. I’m old enough to be most folk’s granny, though I don’t have children myself. Everyone round here calls me Granny Alison so you can call me that too. The concierge told me you were moving in so I got an extra steak slice from ‘Gregg’s’. Come in for your dinner at six o’clock. You never feel like cooking when you first move in because there are always too many other things to deal with.”
Katy was touched by the gesture. Steak slice from Gregg’s maybe wouldn’t have been her first choice for dinner, but the idea of some company and not having to cook appealed to her and it was always a good idea to get to know your neighbours. Granny Alison was slim and strong looking. She had a forceful manner and looked much younger than her years. Katy accepted the kind invitation and thanked the old lady, then she went indoors to organise the flat as well as she could before taking the lift down to the lobby. She’d noticed that near to her apartment block were a handful of shops which included a newsagent and general store and she made her way there. Within the small line of shops was a launderette, an off-licence and a bookmaker and all were busy. Surprisingly, for the city centre, surrounding the blocks of flats, were grassy areas and in some places play areas for children.
As she walked along the street she was aware of many
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