Part Nine

There is much tension in the Amanda Ann drawing room tonight.  

 Paul began to yearn for the E! Channel

However, the next day, when Paul went out for a kebab, there came an unannounced visitor:

 “Marjorie, my love ” Alistair choked “I can no longer wait.  I have packed your bag, as I cannot live without you!”
Marjorie sighed, and pondered on her failure to seduce her enstranged husband:
“Oh, I suppose you’re right.  What am I doing just sitting around on this plastic chair?  And, by the way, I need a bigger suitcase than that!”

Lavinia (who had heard every word) tore in and threw herself at Alistair’s feet:
“No!  No!  Alistair is mine!  You cannot take him away from me, Mother! (I hate you)”

Alistair and Marjorie are horrified:
“Lavinia, please!  Tell your mother there was never anything between us!”
But she rushes away tearfully

“Marjorie, my love, please believe me, I have never laid a hand on that sweet girl.”
Marjorie knows Alistair to be telling the truth, and agrees to meet him that night outside Superdrug.  
She will tell Paul and Lavinia after supper, perhaps they would both be better off without her, if she was causing that much misery.

So later that evening, Marjorie tearfully drops her bombshell to Paul (and the dog).  Lav being out at a gangfight.

“No”, says Paul firmly.
“What?”, Marjorie splutters
This was not her ineffectual husband speaking!

“You’re not going off with that Quack!”
“How dare you!”, Marjorie spluttered.  No-one, but no-one told her what to do – (until now)

“Marjorie”, Paul said patiently, “Alistair was a bloody useless country doctor.  I’ve lost count of how many servants we lost through him!  Two minutes round here, and he’ll be struck off faster than you can say Malpractice!  Then what will you do?”

“True love will find a way,” she protested sniffily.

“I quite agree, but that love should be used here – in your home, Marjorie.  Where it’s needed the most.   You’ve returned to the nest, don’t fly away again.  Stop chasing some dream, Marjorie, make the most of your new home.”

“What’s more.  We can give love and support to our daughter.  Get her away from those dreadful girls and keep her on the straight and narrow.  With the two of us here for her, she’ll come round.”

 “And what am supposed to do in this dreadful little house?”
“Piano lessons”, Paul said, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while.  You’re a bloody awful player, but you know your stuff.”  

“Oh, alright.”, Marjorie groaned, “but what about poor Alistair?”
“Oh him!  I’ve sent Mary up to Superdrug to tell him to fuck off!”

“Little did Marjorie know, Lavinia wasn’t the only one who had their eyes set on Alistair.  
With his heartbreak, and love of cake, it was inevitable that he and Mary would walk off into the sunset.
She already planning her next pregnancy.
I give it a week.”

“And that, as they say, was that.  Or was it?”

That very same night, Mrs Slag announced a visitor:

“Then show them in, my good woman.”, I said cheerfully, expecting the Police to be bringing Lavinia home again.  Nice chaps they were, but hopefully, it would be their last visit”
“But no….”
“Hi.  My name’s Ken (from next door).  I’m gay.  Aren’t you?”
“My word!  I was struck by a thunderbolt!”

   “So it was like this:  Did I want this….?”
 “Or did I want this….?”
 “Well, there you are.  Just when things are being put to bed – ooh, that was a freudian slip!”

“So now you know all about us.  Tune in for our Christmas Special coming shortly!”

“Goodnight and God Bless”

The End (or is it?)  

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