By Ian Lumley

 It's nearly midnight and I'm waiting for the Church clock to strike twelve. She's fast asleep of course. God, how does she do it? Her temper vents like a WHOOSH from a safety valve, and I'm left with a chewed up stomach facing a sleepless night. How can she loose her temper, and at the same time, be that bloody articulate?

Midnight... Twenty seven years. Maybe it's because the kids have gone. God I miss them. They'll never last this long, even if they ever do get married. People don't seem to know how to ride it these days. Have we failed them? Is it our fault? I don't know....

Nearly 1.0 a.m.... At least the Church clock will only strike once. How many it will strike before I get to sleep? Three?... Four?...

1.07 a.m. Some couples say they've never had a cross word. Lying bastards. Unfeeling? Unselfish? Who knows? Oh for heavens sake turn off the questions. I shouldn't have said though, well not out loud anyway. I'll try and think of something else, must clear my mind......

1.15 a.m. I must change that alarm clock. It's saying p.m. instead of a.m. She's breathing heavy... regular, I wonder why she never snores?... or farts come to think of it? It's not natural. It was my fault of course.  Was it really that serious? It really touched a nerve. God she's got a temper. Always over nothing. Some stupid little thing. It's probably something else as well, probably stress. Perhaps I don't listen to her enough. I ask her how she's feeling lots of times. The trouble is she always bloody tells me. Boy does she tell me...

Nearly 1.30... She blasts off with that temper of hers and leaves my insides shredded. I can cope with most things... except this, it's my weakness. I should be able to ride it after all this time. But I can't. I just bloody can't. And she knows it.

1.39 a.m....If she blows up for this, I wonder what she'd do if I had an affair. Not that there's any chance of that. Not these days....

1.47 a.m. I'll hear 2.0 a.m.... definitely. Got to be up at seven. If I can get to sleep for 2.30 I'll get four and a half hours in. I can scrape through on that. Got to make an effort....

2.04 a.m. Should I stand up to her? No... it'll only get worse. One of us has got to give or it'll just get out of hand. Besides, she'll be fine tomorrow... or today. I can take it. She's got the right idea... I bottle it all up. That's why men die younger....

2.25 a.m. Perhaps I should have said it in a jokey way. Not so serious. But that wouldn't be the truth would it? I meant it. I'll always mean it. It's her fault if she can't come to terms with it....

2.50 a.m. God this is ridiculous. I'm going to be knackered tomorrow and she's sleeping like a baby. Perhaps if I think of some Shakespeare... that speech from the school play that stayed with me all these years ...

                        The course of true love never did run smooth but war death

                        Sickness did lay siege to it. Making it momentary as a cloud,

Oh bugger that! That's not going to work.......

3.0 a.m. I'm going to write to that Vicar. That bloody clock...

3.13 a.m. I knew it would upset her. Why did I say it? I've kept it to myself all these years. Then I go and blurt it out like an idiot.

3.24 a.m. This is stupid. I don't care. I HAVE to get some sleep now. So what! I'll say it again if I have to. Stuff it.... Cliff Richards IS a pillock..............

Ends.