It never runs smooth

Beryl has threatened Ted with divorce. She caught him in the garden with a cigarette and a pot of coffee, both of which he’s been told to avoid since the heart attack. We could hear the rant and screaming in our kitchen. Hannah thought I’d left the TV on or something. “Effing woman won’t even let me breathe..” Ted complained to me later. I didn’t bother pointing out that breathing was the very thing she was hoping he’d keep doing. He’s convinced there’s a conspiracy going on to stop him having fun, involving Beryl, his GP, his heart surgeon, two specialists, and the entire modern Western medical profession. He doesn’t seem to realise that the ‘respiratory error’ he suffered this year was a warning about his lifestyle and fitness, and he wants to go on living life the way he did in his twenties. Which is unfortunate, because he spent most of his twenties fighting abroad and suffering from malnutrition.
Hannah, by the way, is on the brink of another separation. Her latest beau spends most of his money on drugs and most of his time on a PlayStation, so she’s feeling rather neglected at the moment. He also has a curious smell that leaves the house about three days after he does, and hair that hasn’t been washed for millennia. My sister seems to pick partners the way I pick shoes – cheap, mildly attractive, and likely to fall apart and smell toxic within a fortnight. Will she never learn??

RC 13-5-09
1133 BST