I know I’m not very nice to people when I kill them off, but sometimes, it’s justified. Having said that, I don’t always kill the people that annoy me. For instance, when I’m faced with people at the tube station, who walk as if they have nowhere to be, I don’t kill them off. Sure, it’s because stopping to kill them would slow me down and I don’t want to upset the other commuters, but you get my drift-there are so many people out there who have annoyed me and yet freely roam the earth. On the other hand, there are people who have annoyed me so much, I have tried not to kill them simply because I thought giving them a second chance would be a viable option in the long run. There exist people who have annoyed me to the extent that I have had to consider breaking my own unbreakable vow of not committing another act of murder. Consider it, yes, but keep going back and forth about actually breaking it. This is the story of how I dealt with the idea of potentially killing someone I really didn’t want to. Arse-face. I don’t know what I was thinking when I decided that writing about this would make me feel better, it has just got me enraged all over again. But anyway; this is the story of how the first man I got physical with and liked as a person since the likes of Lord James and Neil Patrick, really tested my patience because he was such an idiot. Well, actually, this story involves so many idiots, it’s hard to blame just one person. More than anything, murder was needed to calm me down because I was so very angry. Believe me, if there existed other methods to calm my tits, I would adopt them. For instance, I recently met someone who said that he likes to train in mixed martial arts when he is so very angry-but ain’t nobody got time for that! Having said that, I did try out his mixed martial arts class...because he is a bit of a sexy beast. But I digress.
Life could have been all about the calm if not for all of the idiots at play. This is the only story (for now) where I am also one of the idiots involved. By the logic of “kill the idiot” I should have killed myself, but I am too precious to die. My time hasn’t come yet.
So, we left this story at the part where I had just come back home and I was knackered so I decided to take a nap. This was about 6 in the morning. When I woke up, it was noon-ish, and obviously Aunt Sheila ain’t no fool-she knew exactly what happened.
‘Good Afternoon, Aunty Sheila’, I said meekly as I caught sight of her in the living room.
‘Good Afternoon to you, Zxy!’ Aunt Sheila bellowed. I don’t think I’d ever seen her this excited before.
I quietly settled on the sofa with the most sheepish expression.
‘And how was the night for you, my dear?’
‘It was quite pleasant, thank you’, I smiled sheepishly. The awkward just wouldn’t die down. She is so sweet, ohMyGod. Was (RIP). ‘Normal’ people, the ones overrated by society would probably have lectured me about trying to keep it in my pants, but Aunt Sheila looked genuinely proud of me at that moment.
‘I would imagine! I won’t lie, I always knew Algy would make a fantastic lover!’
‘Algy?!’ I looked up, now more surprised than awkward. That I had never imagined Algy in the bedroom would be a lie. But that Aunt Sheila had also imagined it was a bit distressing-not to mention, that she thought he and I had hooked up was also a bit distressing. If true, it could ruin the dynamics of the Bond Street society between numbers 72 and 78.
‘I do apologise, is that not what you got up to the previous night?’ Aunt Sheila looked a bit embarrassed.
‘No need to apologise! My activities of the previous night were indeed in line with what you stipulate-merely, that I was with Dr. James and not Algernon.’
Aunt Sheila did not look overly pleased. She approved of Dr. James, that wasn’t the problem. She was just hoping for something to happen between me and Algernon.
‘Do think about it!’ Aunt Sheila insisted. ‘Zxy Garibaldi! That sounds far better than anything I have ever related Zxy to!’
‘What else have you related Zxy to?’
‘Zxy Talbon. Listen to that. Zxy Talbon. That does nothing for me. Zxy Garibaldi. Zxy Garibaldi. See? Zxy Garibaldi. Zxy Garibaldi. Oh, I’ve said it too many times now, it’s gone weird.’
‘Aunty Sheila, I assure you, I am not going to become Zxy Talborn or Zxy Garibaldi any time soon. I haven't even received communication from the Doctor yet!’
‘Yes! For all we know, this incident could be a lesson for you! Don’t fraternise with a Talbon when there’s a magnificent Garibaldi at your disposal!’
‘He isn’t at my disposal, Aunty. Besides, didn’t Algy say that the Dr. would come down to see you?’
‘He did, but I received no formal communication about it from the Doctor himself. When did he say he intends to depart?’
‘Tomorrow. I believe he was booked on to the carriage at half past seven in the evening.’
‘Well, you’ve got enough time to see him off, then.’
But I didn’t know if that was true. It felt a bit weird, now, actually. I had just hooked up with the cousin of one of my best friends of the time. Aunty Sheila didn’t approve. I just felt like I needed to see him again, simply because of the fun we had had and the connection we had felt. Obviously I can only speak for myself but of course he felt it too. I mean, it’s me. I have the allure. But I also had this strange feeling that I won’t see him. But that was ridiculous. I know we hadn’t had the chance to discuss how and when and where we would say goodbye but Algernon would serve as our little communications officer. I would make him serve as our communications officer.
The day passed by and no communication occurred between 77 Bond Street (the Hemendip abode) and 73 Bond Street (the Garibaldi abode). I was occupied anyway, so I didn’t mind (I was hungover, so I was occupied with the feeling of wanting to kill myself). But it felt weird coming back to my bed, so cold, and with no one by my side. I felt the way song-writers of today feel. “Same bed, but it feels just a little bit bigger now.. (8)” or “You know the bed feels warmer...sleeping here alone (8)” (people like Bruno Mars and Kelly Clarkson are just kidding themselves). Having said that, I was positive that communication would occur the next day.
The next day dawned and I went downstairs to check the post. Nothing from no. 73. What the pug is taking him so long to say ‘Oh, Zxy, I miss you already; be mine? <3 a="" anyway.="" clingy="" it="" less="" nbsp="" of="" or="" p="" version="">It was still quite early though, and if James was anything like his cousin, sleeping in on a Sunday was probably his thing. It’s fair enough, not everyone was getting back out there in the dating world. Not everyone had a scary past. Not everyone had murderous tendencies.
So, I decided to wait until about 3. I knew for a fact that Algy would not wake up until at least noon. If he had a social gathering the previous night, though, he would probably have woken up earlier (it’s weird, people tend to wake up later than usual when they’ve had a bit of fun the previous night-Algy was the opposite. He’d wake up at 9 if he was severely drunk the night before, and at noon if nothing had happened the previous night). And as our communications officer, he would suggest to James to write to me before he left, or even better, visit me before taking off and give me the closure I needed. I didn’t need a relationship, I didn’t need love, I didn’t need him to tell me I was the best he ever had (honey, that’s a given). I just needed a goodbye. And Algy knows how I function, he’ll take care of it. So, essentially, I had left it all on Algy. Because apparently, he could be trusted. Now, you must know, at this point, bankers were trusted. I do believe that this is the point when all bankers started to go downhill. Disappoint customers. Take extra risks. It’ll be fun. Arse-faces.
So, anyway, I gave them until 3, and when they didn’t say anything, I got iffy and decided to send them a letter myself. In my head, it wasn’t a contest. I could say goodbye first. All I cared about was a goodbye.
And this is where Idiot #1 stepped in.
“Dear Algy,
I hope you and your cousin had a lovely weekend and that your cousin enjoyed his stay in London. Aunty Sheila extends her regards to you both. Do convey my wishes to James and a farewell.
Love,
Zxy”
There. That should do it. It’s not clingy, it doesn’t say anything about, ‘why the pug would James not write to me first?’, or ‘why have you, Algy, not acted according to your responsibilities as communications officer; do you like the idea of being fired?’ or ‘Jamessss come back to me, baby’.
I thought it was perfect. It would make James think about the fun we had and that would make him want to come over and then he would say goodbye. The way I saw it, I was merely being a good member of society, saying nice things to visitors. It had nothing to do with the fact that I had a bit of a crush on the young Doctor. I say ‘young’, he was the same age as me. I checked, because I was paranoid about my cougar days coming early. Oh, there’s a story about that too, but we’ll come to that later. You, dear reader, are in for a treat! (LOL I keed, it’s absolutely horrific)
So, by my calculation of time, the letter should have got to the Garibaldi residence at about 3.15. Knowing Algy, he probably would have looked at the envelope for a few seconds, set it down, deciding he would read it later because having to read things is effort (honestly, to this day, I don’t understand how he became a banker). An hour later, he would remember the letter and be like, ‘oh shit, yeah, I forgot about Zxy’s letter’ (except, we didn’t say things like ‘oh shit’ so he would probably not say that). He would read it, grin like an idiot, show the letter to James, and then they would have that look of ‘yeah, I tapped that’ (that=Zxy; ugh, men objectify women so much). And then James would rush over to say goodbye to me because he’d realise that I was a perfect delight and that not saying goodbye would be a shame. By my estimation, James would be at #77 between 4.30 and 5.
But did he show up?
No, because if he had, I wouldn’t be writing about it.
He didn’t show up.
His coach was for 7.30. I decided to wait until then. Aunt Sheila could tell I was fidgety and distracted so she didn’t bother me, sweet lady that she was. But I was so very angry. If it hadn’t been for my no-murder pact with myself, I probably would have engaged in the act of blood. And the sexy beast from the mixed martial arts class wasn’t there to comfort me either, so I was left with nothing but the constant nagging thought of James in my head.
All I could think of was ‘I cannot believe he would just sleep with me and then not see me.’
It’s of little comfort to know that men of this generation are not so very different. The only difference is that I’ve had 200 years of experience with them so I know what to expect. But for those who are just stepping in, I have to say, good luck out there. Men are idiots. People say women over think, but men don’t think at all, so we have to compensate for that. Having said that, I have come across men who over think things way too much. Yeah, I don’t understand men.
Anyway, it was now 8 o’ clock and I knew that if nothing had happened while he was here, nothing can happen now that he was gone. All I could do was let it go. But did I let it go?
No, because if I had, I wouldn't be writing about it.
On the surface, I did. Like, I didn’t communicate with my chief communications officer for a few days after. He sent around a letter to the flat but I could not be arsed with it. Fair enough, because it was for the benefit of Aunty Sheila anyway. She knew what was going on with me, so she tried cheering me up. She took me out to Osterley Park and stuff and showed me horses and horse-riders and things like that, and it was fun, but she could tell that I was still not over it. I didn’t say anything to her or anyone else, obviously, but she just knew.
A few days later, Algernon decided to randomly show up again and I assumed it was to check on Aunt Sheila but I was wrong.
‘Ms. Hemendip, I wonder if you could spare Ms. Zxy for the evening at all? I was hoping to run a few errands around town and would love to have her company for the evening’, he said.
‘Of course, Algy!’ I swear I have never seen her so happy. It was like her wish for Algy and me to get together was finally being fulfilled. I wanted to ask her to calm down, that we’d probably just end up going to his flat for a drink or whatever (pubs didn’t welcome women for binge drinking in those days-I know, right, so sexist), but I thought I’d let her have this one.
‘How do you find the winter coming along? Gone a bit chilly, hasn’t it?’ he said as we left the flat.
‘Indeed! My eyes are cold. It does not feel normal’, I added. It’s true, my eyes were actually cold.
He laughed, thinking I was joking.
Things were normal with us. We were both just chit-chatting about the stuff we normally spoke about. People we encounter on a daily basis. Mutual friends. The weirdos at his party (but not James). How he was trying his luck with a busty lass but failed because he was too tired for life (that’s what he said; I like to think she wasn’t interested and that he just got shot down). The plays coming up. Etc.
We did the stuff he wanted me to accompany him for-paying a few bills, posting letters, etc. and then headed back to his flat for what we liked to call ‘wine night’ (not the most creative name, and it leaves nothing to the imagination. It was basically a night with wine).
The point of the night was to drink until our inhibitions were lowered and then tell each other stuff we didn’t already know about ourselves. We never actually got to that part, though; most of the time we would just end up dancing to classical tunes, or just generally chatting shit. What a great time to be alive.
Now, it’s common knowledge that when someone talks under the effect of alcohol, he/she doesn’t normally say the most sensible things. So when I decided to speak, I should have known I would regret it.
‘I had a wonderful night with James.’
‘As did he’, Algy grinned. I could tell he was thinking about James’ reviews of my performance. I’m not a fool, I know what guys talk about.
‘Why did he not say goodbye? I thought that was very rude of him. That really hurt my feelings, you know.’
‘Aw, Zxy’, he said, hugging me. ’That wasn’t because of something you did.’
‘I know’, I said, moving away. ‘I didn’t think it was because of something I did.’
‘Oh. Well, then, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.’
‘I want you to tell me what was going on in his head when he decided that not saying goodbye to me was the best idea in the world.’
And that’s where Idiot#2 stepped in. Algernon Garibaldi.
‘Well, he was going to. I asked him not to’, Algy said as he poured us another glass of wine each.
I blinked several times before saying, ‘Did you really? You’re the worst communications officer I have ever known.’
Obviously he didn’t understand what that was, so he didn’t care. Instead, he just told me what happened when he received my letter.
‘Well, Littimer brought in your letter at about 3.15, and I was going to read it, but then I didn’t, because I was a bit distracted by something else. Then about an hour later, I remembered your letter and read it and showed it to James, and he said that he would go around to yours to say goodbye.’
So far so good. My prediction was actually right.
‘But why didn’t he?’
‘Because you said that you didn’t want to pursue a relationship. I thought if he went around to yours, he would say something silly and then things would be awkward for you. I thought that was what you wanted, too?’
I have never wanted to scream ‘You idiot!’ with such emotions before.
‘But all I wanted was closure’, I said quietly. ‘I just wanted to say goodbye to him.’
Algy looked at me earnestly. ‘I’m sorry, Zxy, I had no idea. I just did what I thought was best for you.’
And that’s when I realised the existence of Idiot#3. James Talbot.
What kind of an idiot can’t act of his own accord? So, Algy asked him not to come around, but is that the end of the world? You’ll just leave without a goodbye?
‘I know, I do appreciate it. I just wish he hadn’t left without a goodbye. It’s a question of manners, not feelings’, I added, not wishing to come across as someone with feelings.
But Algy knew. He wasn’t going to continue talking about it but he did hug me and in order to make it up to me, he decided to play a few of my favourite songs so that we could dance a bit and go crazy so that all would be forgotten. All was forgotten. Not just James, but also the sense of time and...boundaries. The next time that we spoke to each other, for some reason we were cuddling.
‘I have never been involved in a serious relationship with a woman’, he was telling me. ‘It’s not because I’m not ready, it’s just that I’m not sure I want to commit myself to one woman yet.’
‘It sounds like you're not ready’, I giggled. Because that’s something you giggle about.
‘My Lord, Zxy, why are you so cuddly?’
‘Why am I so curly?’ Yeah, I was seriously drunk.
‘Cuddly! Why are you so cuddly!’
‘I don’t know, it’s the natural grace of the Hemendip clan.’
‘You have a fine waist’, he added.
‘You have fine hair’, I giggled again, but this time, because he had taken to tossing me around by my waist.
And then he stopped.
‘Do you think’, he started, ‘it would be the worst idea if we got together for just one night and then never spoke of it?’
‘I do’, I said.
Needless to say, we did get together for just the one night (and a few nights after, but that’s for another time), and when my children ask me why friends hooking up is a bad idea, I tell them about this.
Okay, so my children don’t ask me inappropriate questions. I don’t have children. But the point is, this was the day when I decided to let go of James, and take on Algy instead. When I went home the next morning, Aunty Sheila knew exactly what had happened. Nothing could contain her joy. But I also remembered what Algy had said the previous night-that he wasn’t ready to commit to one woman yet and that we would never speak of us again, but I didn’t have the heart to destroy Aunt Sheila’s joy yet. It could kill her. I’m serious, she had a weak heart situation. Normally, I would have killed both Algy and James. James for leaving without a goodbye (if you don’t kill the ill-mannered ones, the disease will will just spread), and Algy for coaxing me into getting together with him for just that night (I know he didn’t really have to say or do anything to convince me, and that it was alcohol for the most part that made me do it, but if I wanted to, I could have killed him for getting things to go that far) and getting James to leave without a goodbye. But I didn’t. For two reasons-a) James was up in Nottingham, so effort, and b) Aunt Sheila liked Algy, I could never do that to her.
But yes, that’s the story of how I almost did consider breaking my own unbreakable vow. You’d think this was the end of Zxy’s murder phase, but you never know.
Life could have been all about the calm if not for all of the idiots at play. This is the only story (for now) where I am also one of the idiots involved. By the logic of “kill the idiot” I should have killed myself, but I am too precious to die. My time hasn’t come yet.
So, we left this story at the part where I had just come back home and I was knackered so I decided to take a nap. This was about 6 in the morning. When I woke up, it was noon-ish, and obviously Aunt Sheila ain’t no fool-she knew exactly what happened.
‘Good Afternoon, Aunty Sheila’, I said meekly as I caught sight of her in the living room.
‘Good Afternoon to you, Zxy!’ Aunt Sheila bellowed. I don’t think I’d ever seen her this excited before.
I quietly settled on the sofa with the most sheepish expression.
‘And how was the night for you, my dear?’
‘It was quite pleasant, thank you’, I smiled sheepishly. The awkward just wouldn’t die down. She is so sweet, ohMyGod. Was (RIP). ‘Normal’ people, the ones overrated by society would probably have lectured me about trying to keep it in my pants, but Aunt Sheila looked genuinely proud of me at that moment.
‘I would imagine! I won’t lie, I always knew Algy would make a fantastic lover!’
‘Algy?!’ I looked up, now more surprised than awkward. That I had never imagined Algy in the bedroom would be a lie. But that Aunt Sheila had also imagined it was a bit distressing-not to mention, that she thought he and I had hooked up was also a bit distressing. If true, it could ruin the dynamics of the Bond Street society between numbers 72 and 78.
‘I do apologise, is that not what you got up to the previous night?’ Aunt Sheila looked a bit embarrassed.
‘No need to apologise! My activities of the previous night were indeed in line with what you stipulate-merely, that I was with Dr. James and not Algernon.’
Aunt Sheila did not look overly pleased. She approved of Dr. James, that wasn’t the problem. She was just hoping for something to happen between me and Algernon.
‘Do think about it!’ Aunt Sheila insisted. ‘Zxy Garibaldi! That sounds far better than anything I have ever related Zxy to!’
‘What else have you related Zxy to?’
‘Zxy Talbon. Listen to that. Zxy Talbon. That does nothing for me. Zxy Garibaldi. Zxy Garibaldi. See? Zxy Garibaldi. Zxy Garibaldi. Oh, I’ve said it too many times now, it’s gone weird.’
‘Aunty Sheila, I assure you, I am not going to become Zxy Talborn or Zxy Garibaldi any time soon. I haven't even received communication from the Doctor yet!’
‘Yes! For all we know, this incident could be a lesson for you! Don’t fraternise with a Talbon when there’s a magnificent Garibaldi at your disposal!’
‘He isn’t at my disposal, Aunty. Besides, didn’t Algy say that the Dr. would come down to see you?’
‘He did, but I received no formal communication about it from the Doctor himself. When did he say he intends to depart?’
‘Tomorrow. I believe he was booked on to the carriage at half past seven in the evening.’
‘Well, you’ve got enough time to see him off, then.’
But I didn’t know if that was true. It felt a bit weird, now, actually. I had just hooked up with the cousin of one of my best friends of the time. Aunty Sheila didn’t approve. I just felt like I needed to see him again, simply because of the fun we had had and the connection we had felt. Obviously I can only speak for myself but of course he felt it too. I mean, it’s me. I have the allure. But I also had this strange feeling that I won’t see him. But that was ridiculous. I know we hadn’t had the chance to discuss how and when and where we would say goodbye but Algernon would serve as our little communications officer. I would make him serve as our communications officer.
The day passed by and no communication occurred between 77 Bond Street (the Hemendip abode) and 73 Bond Street (the Garibaldi abode). I was occupied anyway, so I didn’t mind (I was hungover, so I was occupied with the feeling of wanting to kill myself). But it felt weird coming back to my bed, so cold, and with no one by my side. I felt the way song-writers of today feel. “Same bed, but it feels just a little bit bigger now.. (8)” or “You know the bed feels warmer...sleeping here alone (8)” (people like Bruno Mars and Kelly Clarkson are just kidding themselves). Having said that, I was positive that communication would occur the next day.
The next day dawned and I went downstairs to check the post. Nothing from no. 73. What the pug is taking him so long to say ‘Oh, Zxy, I miss you already; be mine? <3 a="" anyway.="" clingy="" it="" less="" nbsp="" of="" or="" p="" version="">It was still quite early though, and if James was anything like his cousin, sleeping in on a Sunday was probably his thing. It’s fair enough, not everyone was getting back out there in the dating world. Not everyone had a scary past. Not everyone had murderous tendencies.
So, I decided to wait until about 3. I knew for a fact that Algy would not wake up until at least noon. If he had a social gathering the previous night, though, he would probably have woken up earlier (it’s weird, people tend to wake up later than usual when they’ve had a bit of fun the previous night-Algy was the opposite. He’d wake up at 9 if he was severely drunk the night before, and at noon if nothing had happened the previous night). And as our communications officer, he would suggest to James to write to me before he left, or even better, visit me before taking off and give me the closure I needed. I didn’t need a relationship, I didn’t need love, I didn’t need him to tell me I was the best he ever had (honey, that’s a given). I just needed a goodbye. And Algy knows how I function, he’ll take care of it. So, essentially, I had left it all on Algy. Because apparently, he could be trusted. Now, you must know, at this point, bankers were trusted. I do believe that this is the point when all bankers started to go downhill. Disappoint customers. Take extra risks. It’ll be fun. Arse-faces.
So, anyway, I gave them until 3, and when they didn’t say anything, I got iffy and decided to send them a letter myself. In my head, it wasn’t a contest. I could say goodbye first. All I cared about was a goodbye.
And this is where Idiot #1 stepped in.
“Dear Algy,
I hope you and your cousin had a lovely weekend and that your cousin enjoyed his stay in London. Aunty Sheila extends her regards to you both. Do convey my wishes to James and a farewell.
Love,
Zxy”
There. That should do it. It’s not clingy, it doesn’t say anything about, ‘why the pug would James not write to me first?’, or ‘why have you, Algy, not acted according to your responsibilities as communications officer; do you like the idea of being fired?’ or ‘Jamessss come back to me, baby’.
I thought it was perfect. It would make James think about the fun we had and that would make him want to come over and then he would say goodbye. The way I saw it, I was merely being a good member of society, saying nice things to visitors. It had nothing to do with the fact that I had a bit of a crush on the young Doctor. I say ‘young’, he was the same age as me. I checked, because I was paranoid about my cougar days coming early. Oh, there’s a story about that too, but we’ll come to that later. You, dear reader, are in for a treat! (LOL I keed, it’s absolutely horrific)
So, by my calculation of time, the letter should have got to the Garibaldi residence at about 3.15. Knowing Algy, he probably would have looked at the envelope for a few seconds, set it down, deciding he would read it later because having to read things is effort (honestly, to this day, I don’t understand how he became a banker). An hour later, he would remember the letter and be like, ‘oh shit, yeah, I forgot about Zxy’s letter’ (except, we didn’t say things like ‘oh shit’ so he would probably not say that). He would read it, grin like an idiot, show the letter to James, and then they would have that look of ‘yeah, I tapped that’ (that=Zxy; ugh, men objectify women so much). And then James would rush over to say goodbye to me because he’d realise that I was a perfect delight and that not saying goodbye would be a shame. By my estimation, James would be at #77 between 4.30 and 5.
But did he show up?
No, because if he had, I wouldn’t be writing about it.
He didn’t show up.
His coach was for 7.30. I decided to wait until then. Aunt Sheila could tell I was fidgety and distracted so she didn’t bother me, sweet lady that she was. But I was so very angry. If it hadn’t been for my no-murder pact with myself, I probably would have engaged in the act of blood. And the sexy beast from the mixed martial arts class wasn’t there to comfort me either, so I was left with nothing but the constant nagging thought of James in my head.
All I could think of was ‘I cannot believe he would just sleep with me and then not see me.’
It’s of little comfort to know that men of this generation are not so very different. The only difference is that I’ve had 200 years of experience with them so I know what to expect. But for those who are just stepping in, I have to say, good luck out there. Men are idiots. People say women over think, but men don’t think at all, so we have to compensate for that. Having said that, I have come across men who over think things way too much. Yeah, I don’t understand men.
Anyway, it was now 8 o’ clock and I knew that if nothing had happened while he was here, nothing can happen now that he was gone. All I could do was let it go. But did I let it go?
No, because if I had, I wouldn't be writing about it.
On the surface, I did. Like, I didn’t communicate with my chief communications officer for a few days after. He sent around a letter to the flat but I could not be arsed with it. Fair enough, because it was for the benefit of Aunty Sheila anyway. She knew what was going on with me, so she tried cheering me up. She took me out to Osterley Park and stuff and showed me horses and horse-riders and things like that, and it was fun, but she could tell that I was still not over it. I didn’t say anything to her or anyone else, obviously, but she just knew.
A few days later, Algernon decided to randomly show up again and I assumed it was to check on Aunt Sheila but I was wrong.
‘Ms. Hemendip, I wonder if you could spare Ms. Zxy for the evening at all? I was hoping to run a few errands around town and would love to have her company for the evening’, he said.
‘Of course, Algy!’ I swear I have never seen her so happy. It was like her wish for Algy and me to get together was finally being fulfilled. I wanted to ask her to calm down, that we’d probably just end up going to his flat for a drink or whatever (pubs didn’t welcome women for binge drinking in those days-I know, right, so sexist), but I thought I’d let her have this one.
‘How do you find the winter coming along? Gone a bit chilly, hasn’t it?’ he said as we left the flat.
‘Indeed! My eyes are cold. It does not feel normal’, I added. It’s true, my eyes were actually cold.
He laughed, thinking I was joking.
Things were normal with us. We were both just chit-chatting about the stuff we normally spoke about. People we encounter on a daily basis. Mutual friends. The weirdos at his party (but not James). How he was trying his luck with a busty lass but failed because he was too tired for life (that’s what he said; I like to think she wasn’t interested and that he just got shot down). The plays coming up. Etc.
We did the stuff he wanted me to accompany him for-paying a few bills, posting letters, etc. and then headed back to his flat for what we liked to call ‘wine night’ (not the most creative name, and it leaves nothing to the imagination. It was basically a night with wine).
The point of the night was to drink until our inhibitions were lowered and then tell each other stuff we didn’t already know about ourselves. We never actually got to that part, though; most of the time we would just end up dancing to classical tunes, or just generally chatting shit. What a great time to be alive.
Now, it’s common knowledge that when someone talks under the effect of alcohol, he/she doesn’t normally say the most sensible things. So when I decided to speak, I should have known I would regret it.
‘I had a wonderful night with James.’
‘As did he’, Algy grinned. I could tell he was thinking about James’ reviews of my performance. I’m not a fool, I know what guys talk about.
‘Why did he not say goodbye? I thought that was very rude of him. That really hurt my feelings, you know.’
‘Aw, Zxy’, he said, hugging me. ’That wasn’t because of something you did.’
‘I know’, I said, moving away. ‘I didn’t think it was because of something I did.’
‘Oh. Well, then, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.’
‘I want you to tell me what was going on in his head when he decided that not saying goodbye to me was the best idea in the world.’
And that’s where Idiot#2 stepped in. Algernon Garibaldi.
‘Well, he was going to. I asked him not to’, Algy said as he poured us another glass of wine each.
I blinked several times before saying, ‘Did you really? You’re the worst communications officer I have ever known.’
Obviously he didn’t understand what that was, so he didn’t care. Instead, he just told me what happened when he received my letter.
‘Well, Littimer brought in your letter at about 3.15, and I was going to read it, but then I didn’t, because I was a bit distracted by something else. Then about an hour later, I remembered your letter and read it and showed it to James, and he said that he would go around to yours to say goodbye.’
So far so good. My prediction was actually right.
‘But why didn’t he?’
‘Because you said that you didn’t want to pursue a relationship. I thought if he went around to yours, he would say something silly and then things would be awkward for you. I thought that was what you wanted, too?’
I have never wanted to scream ‘You idiot!’ with such emotions before.
‘But all I wanted was closure’, I said quietly. ‘I just wanted to say goodbye to him.’
Algy looked at me earnestly. ‘I’m sorry, Zxy, I had no idea. I just did what I thought was best for you.’
And that’s when I realised the existence of Idiot#3. James Talbot.
What kind of an idiot can’t act of his own accord? So, Algy asked him not to come around, but is that the end of the world? You’ll just leave without a goodbye?
‘I know, I do appreciate it. I just wish he hadn’t left without a goodbye. It’s a question of manners, not feelings’, I added, not wishing to come across as someone with feelings.
But Algy knew. He wasn’t going to continue talking about it but he did hug me and in order to make it up to me, he decided to play a few of my favourite songs so that we could dance a bit and go crazy so that all would be forgotten. All was forgotten. Not just James, but also the sense of time and...boundaries. The next time that we spoke to each other, for some reason we were cuddling.
‘I have never been involved in a serious relationship with a woman’, he was telling me. ‘It’s not because I’m not ready, it’s just that I’m not sure I want to commit myself to one woman yet.’
‘It sounds like you're not ready’, I giggled. Because that’s something you giggle about.
‘My Lord, Zxy, why are you so cuddly?’
‘Why am I so curly?’ Yeah, I was seriously drunk.
‘Cuddly! Why are you so cuddly!’
‘I don’t know, it’s the natural grace of the Hemendip clan.’
‘You have a fine waist’, he added.
‘You have fine hair’, I giggled again, but this time, because he had taken to tossing me around by my waist.
And then he stopped.
‘Do you think’, he started, ‘it would be the worst idea if we got together for just one night and then never spoke of it?’
‘I do’, I said.
Needless to say, we did get together for just the one night (and a few nights after, but that’s for another time), and when my children ask me why friends hooking up is a bad idea, I tell them about this.
Okay, so my children don’t ask me inappropriate questions. I don’t have children. But the point is, this was the day when I decided to let go of James, and take on Algy instead. When I went home the next morning, Aunty Sheila knew exactly what had happened. Nothing could contain her joy. But I also remembered what Algy had said the previous night-that he wasn’t ready to commit to one woman yet and that we would never speak of us again, but I didn’t have the heart to destroy Aunt Sheila’s joy yet. It could kill her. I’m serious, she had a weak heart situation. Normally, I would have killed both Algy and James. James for leaving without a goodbye (if you don’t kill the ill-mannered ones, the disease will will just spread), and Algy for coaxing me into getting together with him for just that night (I know he didn’t really have to say or do anything to convince me, and that it was alcohol for the most part that made me do it, but if I wanted to, I could have killed him for getting things to go that far) and getting James to leave without a goodbye. But I didn’t. For two reasons-a) James was up in Nottingham, so effort, and b) Aunt Sheila liked Algy, I could never do that to her.
But yes, that’s the story of how I almost did consider breaking my own unbreakable vow. You’d think this was the end of Zxy’s murder phase, but you never know.
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