Had an interesting chat with Mrs QO while we were watching Doctor see to removing the fridge magnets from her husband's head. Nice lady - she offered me some bourbon from her flask.
"Better not, thanks, I'm on duty."
She nodded.
"What a lot of fuss he's making. I suppose you did give him some anaesthetic?"
"Oh, of course. Mind, I expect it does sting a bit."
"Serve him right. Two days' worth of ice blown to buggery, and I was fond of that magnet with the raccoon on. And God knows what the bill will be from the electrician. Ah well. Better than his last little escapade, I suppose. At least we still have the roof."
She took another sip of bourbon and glanced sideways at me.
"How much trouble has he been?"
"Oh, well, not too much. Not once I'd got the cuffs on him. He seemed fascinated by my breasts... he asked whether they were... well, real, or not, and I thought it might be best if he was restrained. You know, just to keep things under control."
She nodded.
"I was going to ask if you wanted to borrow my cattle-prod, but you seem to have things sorted."
She looked at me again.
"About your breasts..."
I was all set to get indignant.
"What??"
She looked me straight in the eye.
"You didn't tell him, I hope?"
"Certainly not. None of his business."
She grinned.
"Good. Keep the little bugger guessing. It might just take his mind off 'his latest experiment', God help us. Listen, if he starts going on about the meaculpa oblongata, just let him whitter on, OK? He's mostly harmless, but he does get these odd ideas. Don't let him talk you into any 'experiments', whatever you do."
I nodded slowly.
"And of course, since he's the first male ever to work it out, we don't want the word spreading."
"Exactly."
We stood in silence for a moment, then my curiosity got the better of me.
"Why did you marry him?"
She thought for a moment.
"Well, his cunning plan was to keep me drunk for the first four years of our relationship, so when he popped the question I wasn't at my sharpest. And there have been some moments of fun, if you don't mind the occasional missing roof or totally destroyed deep-freeze. And he cooks a mean chilli - especially when he's trying for boeuf bourguignon. Everyone needs someone to look after them."
"It's what we do, isn't it?"
"Until someone comes up with a better plan, yes, that's what we do."
Nice lady, Mrs QO.
Am I being dim? The first male to work what out? And what wasn't revealed about the breasts? The story leading up to this scenario made me howl with laughter - this hospital scene has made me smile and scratch my head. No bad thing with the nits I've got.
ReplyDeleteAh well, you'll have to forgive me; I've never written fiction before. No, I tell a lie. At age 9 I entered an 'Action Man' writing competition (1,000 words on an Action Man adventure), my entry sinking without trace. Oh, and come to think of it, there was the latest revision of my CV. But apart from those, fiction is a new venture. Learn with me :)
ReplyDeleteI've added a couple of words to the breasts discusssion (I don't think I've ever typed that phrase before) which should make things clearer. As for the other query, Mrs QO worked that one out without prompt. We had both been drinking, though, so if you have a glass or two of wine and try again it might make sense. For a given value of 'sense', of course.