Prologue
Following a meal out the three couples completed the evening by returning to Nigel and “Friggy’s” place. The ban on smoking had altered their life styles: so no pre-prandial drinks and no lingering over coffee afterwards. It was George’s turn to drive and therefore not drink so he and his wife Susan had collected “Seamus O’Goldberg” and “Big Bess” and finally Nigel and “Friggy.” On return from the restaurant and now ensconced in the leather arm chairs and settees in N+F’s lounge the intercourse began. But before it starts let’s run round the six.
Nigel was a working class intellectual, the frightening outcome of grafting middle class stem onto barrow boy roots. His wife “Friggy” was a bright “Grammar School Girl” in her prime. They fought like cat and dog however their sex life shared elements with these mammals.
“Seamus O’Goldberg” had a fascination for Politics and History. “Big Bess” was a large shapeless lump whose only real contribution was to ensure that the group never turned to wife swapping.
George had gone to school with Nigel and should have outpaced him yet he went into Insurance and Nigel the LSE. George had met Susan at work. She had a sharp if prosaic mind and an impish sense of fun.
The table around which they sat was spread with nibbles, glasses and a range of drinks in bottles and boxes. Seamus started the conversation.
Seamus- I wish that I didn’t have to breathe in your smoke.
Susan-You could always go and sit in the garden.
Nigel-And breathe in next door’s barbecue fumes.
Seamus- Five hundred thousand deaths will be prevented by banning smoking in public places.
George-Say’s who?
Seamus-It’s a fact.
Nigel-You mean like the Jews eat Christian babies and the Irish are all psychopathic killers. Both views have been held as truth in the past.
Friggy-I like the smell of Cigars. It’s the only thing I’ll let him smoke in the bedroom.
Susan-I tried cigarillos they were all right but I still needed a fag afterwards.
Nigel-What really frightens me is that we are becoming a Totalitarian State where the rulers shape us. They tell us what we can think, what we can do and what we should be. Today it’s smoking, what will it be tomorrow?
Seamus-I agree with you there. They should be our servants but they have become our masters. The Local Authority thinks that it is a Feudal Baron lording it over the churls.
Susan-I think we should be twinned with Nazi Germany.
George-That’s only because you love the feel of black leather.
Friggy-I once bought some black leather undies. Nigel never noticed.
Nigel-No, you look best in pink with the odd auburn fur edging.
Friggy –What if I shaved?
Susan-A bucket of cold water for Nigel and Friggy.
Seamus- I blame the Blairs. Eric dreamt up the nightmare and Tony brought it to life.
Nigel-No I blame Oscar Wilde, he decided that nature imitated art and so 1984 has come, albeit in 2007.
Bess-Who’s this Eric?
Susan-Who’s this Tony?
Bess-Tony Blair of course he’s our best Prime Minister ever.
George-If only Tony had been twins we could have used him as bookends.
Nigel-Yes but he'd have twice as many pockets to line.
Friggy-Lift up your glasses and drink to the good health of Tony Blair.
All-Tony Blair.
Seamus-We’ve invented a new form of state, one that evaded Plato’s nimble mind. We are a “Mediocracy”, a state driven by the “Media” and officered by the mediocre.
Nigel-Spot on Seamus, the Politicians are the puppets of the Press Barons. Serves us right, we sent our criminals over to Australia and centuries later, they send us back Rupert Murdoch.
Friggy-Yes but we also got “Neighbours”, Kylie and Rolf Harris.
George-And the Stylophone.
Seamus-My idea of hell would be to be strapped down in a darkened place and subjected to “Greensleeves” played on the stylophone. Intermittently a voice would say “I’m sorry but all our tormentors are busy at the moment, we are aware of you and you are being held in a queue.”
Susan-I like the idea of being strapped down.
Friggy-It’s alright, you should try it.
Nigel-Anymore talk like that Friggy and you’ll not be spanked tonight.
Bess-Why must you always get smutty.
George-Smutty isn’t that Sooty’s Afro-Caribbean friend.
Nigel-Not it’s his Cape Dutch South African pal.
Friggy-I preferred Andy Pandy.
Susan-Come on Nige gives us a song.
Nigel-ok here’s one you know.
Nigel-You’ve often see me wandering looking disconsolate and glum.
All-Aaah.
Nigel-Cos no-ones really loved me not since I lost me dear old mum.
All-How sad.
Nigel-This world’s a slough of despond full of misery and strife.
All-How True.
Nigel-So if there’s no football on the telly well you might as well pleasure the wife.
All-Pleasure the wife
Nigel-Pleasure the wife. This world’s a slough of despond full of misery and strife.
All-Pleasure the wife
Nigel- Pleasure the wife. If there’s no football on the telly well
All-You might as well pleasure the wife.
Friggy-So come on husbands, how do you pleasure you wife? Wives, how does your husband pleasure you?
George-I read erotic verse.
Nigel-I give her a body massage.
Seamus-I do the washing up.
Susan-He tells me that he prefers me cuddly
Bess-He comes home drunk and falls asleep.
Friggy-Does everyone want coffee?
Bess-Seamus will have an Irish coffee; just fill the cup with whisky.
Susan-But wave the coffee jug over it, you know for good luck.
Nigel- But don't let it get too close. Just in case.
Seamus-Could I have tea?
Friggie- So otherwise it’s coffees all round.
Brian Robert Neal 2011