Printer Friendly

Monsters under the bed; Life in the bus lane.

Byline: Martin Wells

THERE was an ominous air of finality about the way she said it, as if she was trying to maximise the dramatic impact.

The scene was certainly set for something solemn. Seagulls had woken us up, tearing shreds out of the bin-liners punctuating the pavement, the early morning rays filtering through the curtains lit up the dust in the air and a gentle but persistent rain was threatening to turn my walk to the bus stop into a dash.

I was thinking about thinking about getting up, if you know what I mean, and in that half-life I'm at my most vulnerable.

Which was why she said it then. ``You've just spent your last night in this bed.''

Knocked off balance by this, I racked my brain to think of what I'd done to upset her. I needn't have been so alarmed. ``Come again?'' I said.

``The new one arrives tomorrow and we've got today to empty the drawers under this one, dismantle it and get it into the street - I've booked the council to come and take the whole lot away later this evening.''

So it was that instead of emptying my wardrobe of shirts, suits and ties, saying a tearful farewell to the children and high-tailing it back to my mother's home cooking, I spent yesterday exploring the contents of our faithful drawer-divan... and wondering what on earth we'd done to end up with a mattress like THAT!

I suppose if we'd spent the best part of our 15-year marriage (and there have been some best parts, let me tell you) rolling around on top of you, doing on you what most people do in the marital bed - mostly eating toast, drinking tea, reading newspapers and breaking wind, it has to be said - you wouldn't look your best.

But this looked like it had been pulled from a bonfire on November 6. It's no wonder I agreed to her demands for a new bed - for the past three or four years this one has been getting its revenge!

Having exposed the mattress, exploring the drawers came as no less of an eye-opener.

In recent years, since the boys have become more, er, inquisitive, we've taken to hiding stuff under there.

As a result, because the drawers are so inaccessible we've forgotten what we've hidden away in them.

So, amongst all the unused linen, camp blankets and yellowing pillows emerged two forgotten Christmas presents for them - and before they get too excited, they were Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle albums! Cripes, we wondered, just how long has it been since we've rooted under here? Still more treasures were unearthed - the roof of the doll's house she's always threatening to make, an Anais Nin novel she'd kept from prying eyes, a `Current Affairs' edition of Trivial Pursuit questions (``Who is the elaborately-coiffed lead singer of the pop group Kajagoogoo?'') and, hidden under a dangerous-looking electric blanket, a particularly racy Viz comic, circa 1989.

In another drawer, I unearthed a collection of `official' photographs of our wedding, taken by a mad friend of a friend who fancied himself as another Man Ray. I mused how the bride's mother had never looked so good - mind you, she was captured in close-up from a worm's eye view using a fish-eye lens.

We found ourselves then reminiscing about the old days and though the bed was hardly an old homestead we found it contained and evoked the same kind of wonderful memories.

We became so engrossed by the bed that we were still lying on it, passing around the snapshots and giggling at the Viz cartoons, when the council van arrived.

If the new one that arrives today gives us as many good times, it'll be worth the money and just as hard to finally let go.
COPYRIGHT 2002 MGN Ltd.
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 2002 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

 
Article Details
Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback
Title Annotation:Comment
Publication:South Wales Echo (Cardiff, Wales)
Date:May 29, 2002
Words:635
Previous Article:Leading Article: Taxi idea is a rank outsider.
Next Article:Re-opening of Knap Pool is not viable; A look at Barry.


Related Articles
Sweet & sour.
GO: CINEMA: IT'S THE SCREAM OF THE CROP.
Letter: These moves destroyed our culture.
FIRE RESCUE OF DRIVER, 19; Chip shop customers save the day after crash.
Sort yourselves out first please.
Double-decker depot pics get more enthusiasts on board; THAT REMINDS ME: 1951: THE REGULAR FEATURE THAT GIVES YOU THE CHANCE TO CATCH UP WITH YOUR...
New hi-tech centre opens.
Six people injured as bus crashes into lamppost.

Terms of use | Privacy policy | Copyright © 2018 Farlex, Inc. | Feedback | For webmasters