fine. And remember that none of these things will work nearly as well as finding another
—
and much better
—
man
.
I breathed a cathartic sigh as I signed the letter. As I say, I sometimes take a tough tone. But if a man lets you down that badly then you have to kick him right out. And as I made my way home that evening I decided I'd follow my own advice. There were a few marital mementoes I hadn't had the heart to discard but now I resolved to throw them away. I took the wedding photo out of the drawer, together with our engagement announcement, and my dried bouquet. In a file I found the air tickets to Menorca and the wallets of honeymoon snaps. There was a particularly nice one of Ed, standing on the beach in the evening sun. I could have delivered a deranged monologue to it—I was tempted—but instead I put it, with the other things, in an old shoebox which, to my bitter amusement, came from 'Faith'. I tied the box tightly with string, pressed my foot on the pedal bin and prepared to let go.
'Goodbye, Ed, ' I said firmly. 'I am ex-iting from you; I am ex-pelling you; I am ex-cising you. You are ex-traneous, ' I added firmly. 'You are ex-cess. I am making an ex-ample of you, because I do not want you any more. I do not want you any more, ' I repeated as the bin began to blur. 'I do not… want. You. I… do… '—my throat began to ache and a tear splashed my hand—'… want you. ' Oh fuck. My heart had been hijacked by nostalgia, and I couldn't let my memories go. As I reached for the kitchen roll I decided instead simply to hide the box; for if I was going to get through this I couldn't let myself be ambushed by sentiment. So I went up to the top floor, into the large spare room, and pushed the box under the bed. As I straightened up—feeling better already—I detected a wisp of smoke. I glanced out of the window into Trevor McDonald's garden. There, at the end of the short lawn, a bonfire was smouldering away. But what was being burned on it wasn't autumn leaves, but two hockey sticks—
how odd
.
----
Chapter 3
After a nasty break-up it's a good idea to put a few postcodes between yourself and your ex. The further the better in fact. There's nothing quite like it for distracting you from the fact that you've just been given the push. Dumped in Devon? Then why not move to Dumfries? Given the big E in Enfield? Then uproot to Edinburgh. You'll be too busy focusing on the newness of your environment to give a damn about
Him
. Not that I am thinking about
Him
. He's history. My campaign to exorcise Him is going well. It's already eight weeks since we split and I can barely even remember Ed Wright's name. I've done what I advised that girl Kelly to do—I've neatly excised him, like a tumour; I haven't even sent him my new address. So I think it's all going to be plain sailing from here. Were it not for one thing…
I was coming downstairs yesterday morning when I had this terrible shock. I heard Ed's voice, quite clearly. My heart zoomed into overdrive.
'You are IMPOSSIBLE!' he shouted as I clutched the banister. 'This marriage is HELL!' By now I was hyperventilating while a light sweat beaded my brow. I stood, paralysed with amazement, in the kitchen doorway, staring at Rudolph's cage.
'I don't know
why
I married you, ' the bird muttered shaking his head.
'Don't talk to me like that!' Rudy sobbed in my voice now. 'You're really upsetting me. '
'Oh, Rose, please don't cry, ' 'Ed' pleaded as Rudy bounced up and down on his perch.
'Uh, uh, uh!' I heard 'myself sob as Rudy lifted his glossy black wings.
'Please, Rose,' Ed added. 'We'll work it out. Please, Rose— I'm sorry. Don't. '
I gazed, horror-struck at Rudy as the dreadful truth sunk in: he was obviously a very slow learner but he'd got us both off to a tee. I reached down the mynah bird handbook to have my diagnosis confirmed.
With a young Java Hills mynah there can be a delay of several months between it learning its vocabulary and actually
—
and much better
—
man
.
I breathed a cathartic sigh as I signed the letter. As I say, I sometimes take a tough tone. But if a man lets you down that badly then you have to kick him right out. And as I made my way home that evening I decided I'd follow my own advice. There were a few marital mementoes I hadn't had the heart to discard but now I resolved to throw them away. I took the wedding photo out of the drawer, together with our engagement announcement, and my dried bouquet. In a file I found the air tickets to Menorca and the wallets of honeymoon snaps. There was a particularly nice one of Ed, standing on the beach in the evening sun. I could have delivered a deranged monologue to it—I was tempted—but instead I put it, with the other things, in an old shoebox which, to my bitter amusement, came from 'Faith'. I tied the box tightly with string, pressed my foot on the pedal bin and prepared to let go.
'Goodbye, Ed, ' I said firmly. 'I am ex-iting from you; I am ex-pelling you; I am ex-cising you. You are ex-traneous, ' I added firmly. 'You are ex-cess. I am making an ex-ample of you, because I do not want you any more. I do not want you any more, ' I repeated as the bin began to blur. 'I do not… want. You. I… do… '—my throat began to ache and a tear splashed my hand—'… want you. ' Oh fuck. My heart had been hijacked by nostalgia, and I couldn't let my memories go. As I reached for the kitchen roll I decided instead simply to hide the box; for if I was going to get through this I couldn't let myself be ambushed by sentiment. So I went up to the top floor, into the large spare room, and pushed the box under the bed. As I straightened up—feeling better already—I detected a wisp of smoke. I glanced out of the window into Trevor McDonald's garden. There, at the end of the short lawn, a bonfire was smouldering away. But what was being burned on it wasn't autumn leaves, but two hockey sticks—
how odd
.
----
Chapter 3
After a nasty break-up it's a good idea to put a few postcodes between yourself and your ex. The further the better in fact. There's nothing quite like it for distracting you from the fact that you've just been given the push. Dumped in Devon? Then why not move to Dumfries? Given the big E in Enfield? Then uproot to Edinburgh. You'll be too busy focusing on the newness of your environment to give a damn about
Him
. Not that I am thinking about
Him
. He's history. My campaign to exorcise Him is going well. It's already eight weeks since we split and I can barely even remember Ed Wright's name. I've done what I advised that girl Kelly to do—I've neatly excised him, like a tumour; I haven't even sent him my new address. So I think it's all going to be plain sailing from here. Were it not for one thing…
I was coming downstairs yesterday morning when I had this terrible shock. I heard Ed's voice, quite clearly. My heart zoomed into overdrive.
'You are IMPOSSIBLE!' he shouted as I clutched the banister. 'This marriage is HELL!' By now I was hyperventilating while a light sweat beaded my brow. I stood, paralysed with amazement, in the kitchen doorway, staring at Rudolph's cage.
'I don't know
why
I married you, ' the bird muttered shaking his head.
'Don't talk to me like that!' Rudy sobbed in my voice now. 'You're really upsetting me. '
'Oh, Rose, please don't cry, ' 'Ed' pleaded as Rudy bounced up and down on his perch.
'Uh, uh, uh!' I heard 'myself sob as Rudy lifted his glossy black wings.
'Please, Rose,' Ed added. 'We'll work it out. Please, Rose— I'm sorry. Don't. '
I gazed, horror-struck at Rudy as the dreadful truth sunk in: he was obviously a very slow learner but he'd got us both off to a tee. I reached down the mynah bird handbook to have my diagnosis confirmed.
With a young Java Hills mynah there can be a delay of several months between it learning its vocabulary and actually
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