Divorced and Deadly

All the way to the bus stop he asked questions, ‘Where’s your car?’

‘It went in for a service and they’ve discovered it needs new brake pads. Hopefully, I should have it back tomorrow.’

‘Ah, well, if you ask me, it’s all a con.’

‘Is that so?’ If he doesn’t clear off soon, I swear I’d smack him one! Either that or I’d tell my mum and she’d give him what for.

‘Think about it.’ Like a dog with a bone, he is. ‘You’ve never noticed anything wrong with your brakes at all, have you?’

‘Not that I can remember, no.’

What the hell was I talking to him for? It only encouraged him.

‘There you are then!’

‘Where am I exactly?’

‘Well, like I say…you’ve been conned. There’s nothing wrong with your brakes at all.’

‘Isn’t there?’

‘No. You see, what they’ll do is whip ’em off. One of the blokes will have ’em away, and before you know it, there they are…’

‘Where are they?’ Talk about being a glutton for punishment.

‘On the stall at a car-boot sale o’ course!’

‘Really?’ No wonder he’s called Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants.

His tongue was still rattling ten to the dozen when the bus arrived. Pushing me aside, he climbed on, while I pretended to tie my shoe. When the bus pulled away Dickie started waving and yelling and telling them to stop because they’d left me behind. (Thick as a plank or what!)

The conductor was in no mood for his antics. I expect he was wondering why I was smiling after being left behind. Good man, that conductor! The thing is, I’d rather be late than sit next to Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants all the way to work.

After I’d thrown what was left of my little-boy’s lunch, I started to wonder…what was going to happen to me now? How will I get over Laura, especially as Shelley won’t have anything to do with me after all the goings on.

And how long will I have to stay at my parents’ house?

A long time I reckon, because Laura fleeced me good and proper, my Ford Focus is about to give up the ghost, and all I’ve got is a fiver in my back pocket and exactly four pounds and sixty pence in my bank account.

Still, I’ve got my magnetic looks, and I still know how to make a lady feel good.

Then I noticed a woman looking at me. She was tall and blonde with legs all the way up to her chin.

Now she’s started walking towards me! Keep calm, Ben. Play it cool…cool now. I said, ‘Hello…yes, did you want something?’ Realising I sounded like Dickie Manse, I gave her my best, whitest smile.

‘Look…’ she pointed downwards.

I looked down and saw nothing untoward, except a slight stirring.

‘Hope you don’t mind me saying…I just thought I’d tell you that your shoelaces were undone.’ She walked straight into the open arms of a man who was running up to meet her. She gave me this bemused little smile as he walked her away.

I could hear the pair of them sniggering all the way down the street. Not that I cared a toss. I didn’t fancy her anyway.

I’ve decided to look on the positive side.

What’s the worst that can happen? I mean, I can handle Dickie Manse brains-in-his-pants, a sniggering blonde, a bad divorce, stolen brake pads, clean underpants and a bottle of Lucozade to ‘keep my pecker up’.

It’ll take more than that to bring Ben Buskin to his knees.

I was determined to come out on top. Yes! Just you see if I don’t.

BEDFORD OCTOBER, THURSDAY (#ulink_c1eda98a-21c4-5ed2-9756-35e7a6d2d508)

Hello diary, my old friend.

Well, like I’ve always said, you never know what’s round the corner. I had a couple of surprises today; both involving women of course. One was a bit unnerving, and the other positively amazing. I still don’t quite know what to make of it all.

I reckon I must have done something very wrong in a previous life, or I wouldn’t be punished the way I’m being punished now.

I arrived at the station at nine a.m., right on time. Most times the damned train is late, and other times I find myself stranded on some scary platform in the middle of nowhere! Anyway, not this time; although the train driver must have had an argument with his wife, because he was whizzing over the rails like a demented hooligan.

‘I think I’m about to be sick, dear!’ The fat woman sitting next to me had already fallen asleep on my shoulder, but it wasn’t her fault, as she had a droopy neck; or so she told me when I shook her awake.

‘You’d best sit up,’ I told her encouragingly, ‘…I’ll see if I can find the conductor.’ The last thing I wanted was to turn up for work with a jacket coated in the remains of her breakfast!

‘Give her a sick bag!’ The conductor was none too pleased, and neither was I.

‘Give her one yourself!’ I mean…you can’t let the buggers get away with it, can you?

Anyway, to cut a long story short, she got her sick bag, and I got as far away from her as I could; though she kept looking at me with a peculiar glint in her eye. ‘Sorry dear,’ I wanted to say, ‘but I’m not that desperate.’ At least, not yet! How dare she?

What’s more, a muscled-up weirdo with a crew-cut on the next seat kept eyeing me up. I nearly asked her what her game was!

Thank God I got to my station unmolested…life is a terrifying lottery, don’t you think?

The van was waiting to collect me as I came out of the station. ‘Good morning, Ben, how was your journey today?’ Dressed in a long, white overall and smelling of dog-chuckles, Poppy is a real sweetie; though you wouldn’t want to kiss her after she’s been canoodling with the canines.

Feeling sorry for myself, I climbed in. ‘It’s been one of them journeys from hell,’ I moaned. ‘The train driver was hell bent on breaking every speed limit in the book, and some woman was threatening to spew up all over me.’ I gave her all the gory details, ‘And would you believe the conductor had a go at me when I refused to take her the sick bag!’

‘Really? And what did you say to that?’ she asked. Poppy can be such a trial at times.

‘What do you think I said? I calmly reminded him that I was a mere passenger, and that it was his duty to “give her one”!’

Poppy started laughing. Honestly! Is it me, or has the whole world gone completely mad?

As we drove along, I took a sneaky look at her. Some people say Poppy is quite pretty, but I can’t quite make up my mind. I suppose with her wild, curly hair and those long, blonde lashes over sapphire-blue eyes, there might be something cute about her.

But then, who am I to say? She’s so preoccupied with her dungarees and other people’s animals; I can’t imagine her being dressed to kill, or rolling about in bed playing catch me if you can with another human being. And she would never flaunt herself naked in a see-through negligee…or would she? I’d better watch out. There I go again with the daydreams!