Wednesday 10th September 2008.
Marty or one of his friends has stolen from Russ again. We go out on a Sunday and normally we have a vodka at home while were getting ready to go out. It’s the only time we ever drink in the house because it’s not something that I enjoy unless I’m going out to play. This week Russ had bought a litre bottle of vodka and some coke. I went out on Saturday night and Russ said that I could pour myself one because I could only afford to drink pop while I was out. Jessy had a booking at a pub where nobody sings so rather than it being their usual Jess and Nigel in concert she invited me to join them to make Jessy, Jane and Nigel in concert. They were right, despite the pub being busy not one person got up to sing. Russ would have loved it but he had Tia that night. We went out together on Sunday night as usual and had a glass of vodka each at home. There was over three quarters of the bottle left.
Last night Russ noticed that it had gone. I hadn’t touched it. Russ hadn’t touched it, which only left Marty or one of his friends. I asked Marty about it but of course he denied all knowledge and threw a hissy fit threatening to leave home again (his new secret weapon) because he gets blamed for everything.
I’m disappointed because his new friend Carl has been joined to Marty at the hip since they met. I just hope that he didn’t have any knowledge of Marty’s stealing because that would indicate that he condones it and isn’t perhaps the good influence that I thought he’d be.
Russ said very little about it but after having ninety-five pounds stolen from the house last month and now this he must be feeling aggravated. This is our home and it’s getting to the point where we can’t put anything down. For three years I have kept all of my money and cards in my handbag. I never ever leave my bag unattended. Where I go my money and cigarettes goes with me. It shouldn’t have to be that way.
I’m pig sick of Marty but feel bullied and blackmailed because if I kick up a fuss he’ll up and off again and I don’t want that. He has me over a barrel.
He doesn’t ask if Carl can stay the night, it’s just given that when Marty’s working the following morning the pair of them stay at my house and sometimes when he’s not working they stay at Carl’s. They are inseparable. Last night Marty informed me that Carl was staying and was it all right if he brought Roxy too, as if I haven’t got enough mouths to feed already. I assumed that Roxy is some girl that Carl’s seeing.
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t want girls staying over the night, it’s inappropriate.”
They laughed. “No, Mother, Roxy is Carl’s dog. He hasn’t got anybody to look after her.”
“Well, I suppose so.”
I was so relieved that it wasn’t a girl that I didn’t ask any more questions. Half an hour later my door burst open and just about flew off its hinges. We all jumped a mile and this great big head the size of a dustbin lid cannoned through the door followed by thirteen stone of Rottweiler. At first I was annoyed, it wasn’t very considerate bringing that great thing to stay the night but they’d asked and I’d said yes. I couldn’t suddenly go back on that after seeing her. She was a joy. I had visions of being kept awake all night by a howling restless dog, but Roxy, apart from being the size of half a cow, is a lady. She was as good as gold and there wasn’t a peep out of her all night. It was a good job that I’d had the foresight to put all the lizards away. I had to laugh when we went to bed. Roxy and the lads had been up in Marty’s room all night. We’d just got into bed when my door was banged open and Roxy came lolloping in to see what was going on. She jumped on the bed just about flattening us and visited for five minutes before taking herself back to the boys. Kali is in love and thinks that Roxy is wonderful. Kalls is old and cranky and doesn’t usually get along well with other dogs but she took to Roxy. Another thing that I see in Carl’s favour is that Roxy is in perfect condition. He’s had her for five years and she’s obviously been very well cared for. If Marty had to take over Kali’s care she’d be dead in a fortnight and left to rot in her own mess. I don’t want Carl to make a habit of bringing Roxy. I can foresee accidents if he does. I have so much glass in my living room and, although she’s very calm and beautifully well behaved I can just see her putting her big daft head through one of the vivs to see what’s inside. Of course, because she’s so big and clumsy by nature of the breed I can’t let any of the lizards out while she’s around.
Fynn has accused Sally of having an affair. Luckily this is only a tiny percentage of why they split up. They are kind of back together again now but only on a weekend basis. It’s ridiculous that Sally would see somebody else behind Fynn’s back because she’s besotted with the girl. Sal has done everything that she can to try and win Fynn back and she’s so in love that it’s sickly.
What is even more ridiculous is the person that Sal is accused of sleeping with.
Me!
Okay, forget for a moment the fact that I am straight, and the fact that I’m her boss, but flipping heck, I’m old enough to be her mother. I am more than twice her age and see her as a kind of daughter figure.
Sal only spends a lot of time with me when Fynns not there and that’s only because she’s like a lost bloody lamb and doesn’t know what to do with herself. Luckily it was all sorted out almost as soon as it was accused. Sal made it very clear that she had absolutely no romantic or sexual interest in me at all, though in fairness she could have stopped short of the, “Ugh, as if,” at the end of her speech as she related it to me. Charming! Fynn quickly admitted that she was just being stupid and they kissed and made up.
Yes Sal and I have spent entire nights together, well technically we have as it’s sometimes about five in the morning when she leaves. She’s the one sitting on one end of the sofa bright as a button and talking ten to the dozen. I’m the one slumped at the other end half comatose just wishing that she’d go home to bed. Fynn won’t come with Sal to my house because she hates animals and has a phobia about snakes, rats and insects but I always invite her. Silly girl. I have been accused of many things in my lifetime but never of being a lesbian home wrecker. I was upset by it but only because I didn’t want to be the one responsible for Fynn leaving Btown. Sally assured me that it wasn’t the case and that Fynn left primarily because she hated her new job and missed being with her friends and lesbian community in Manchester. Fynn has now reined in her daft imagination and is fine with Sally and I spending time together apparently. And anyway, if she doesn’t like it she should get her silly backside back to her missus where she belongs and I might get to bed at a decent hour at nights.
I am finally making some headway with Assante my bosc monitor. She’s the very aggressive lizard with the bone crushing ability to bite off fingers. She’s still aggressive and I still have to be very much on my guard with her. She barks, hisses and spits at me and will lunge for me if she feels threatened. When I get her out for cuddles (yes cuddles) I have to have her in a headlock so that she can’t bite me and I won’t trust her an inch yet … but she’ll sit quietly on my knee now and after an initial threatening session she will close her mouth and let me stroke her with my free hand. She even moves into my finger if I hit a spot that feels good. Generally in her viv she’s coming out into the open more when we’re around and is less guarded. She’s grown a lot and this week I’ve had to replace her hide with one three times the size of the last one. She hates the dog with a passion and is more bothered about Kali than she is about me. Kali is only a medium sized terrier and if she ever falls foul of Assante I’m quite certain that Assante would kill her. The stupid dog has no concept of this and will insist in trying to stuff her head into Assante’s viv when I’m attending to her. Why don’t I lock Kali out? Because then, when Assante’s tame, one day they might meet by mistake and I’d have a dead dog on my hands. Part of Assante’s training is learning to accept and tolerate the dog as well.
If Marty doesn’t keep his thieving hands to himself I might just hold them in front of Assante to deal with my thief in the biblical way.
