True She Was Plain...If Only She Was Likable! (I.P.)

True She Was Plain…If Only She Was Likeable?      (I.P.)

No!  I didn’t like her, this new girlfriend of his and she didn’t like me.  I was quite surprised when my son, Martin, brought her home for the first time.  I’d knocked myself out and cooked a really nice meal but when I offered her a pre-dinner drink she said,

‘I only drink Champagne.  I don’t suppose you have that on offer?’

‘You suppose right,’ I said, hackles rising.  ‘We’re not millionaires.’

What do you think the cheeky cow said next as she looked all round the room.

‘Yes, I think I can see that for myself.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ I said.

‘Oh, no, nothing really I think if you’re hard up shabby chic is the way to go.’

‘Shabby chic!’ I nearly choked on my sherry…Amontillado too! ‘Hard up!  Who says we’re hard up?’

‘It’s all right, Mum, don’t take any notice, it’s just Bernice’s way.  She says it like it is.  She comes from a very wealthy family.’

‘Money might be plentiful but manners certainly seem to be in short supply.’

What did Martin see in this old trout?  It’s true…she looked a lot older than him as if she’d been round the block a few times after having had a hard life.  She wasn’t like any of his previous girlfriends.  For a start she was stick thin which she accentuated by wearing red skinny jeans which did nothing for her, particularly as she was wearing white shoes with killer heels which meant she towered above Martin and the top she had on looked like one of Dolly Parton’s cast offs but without the filling if you get my drift.

Then there was half an inch of make up caked on her face with two black straight eyebrows and a bright red gash for a mouth.  Well, I wouldn’t like to meet her in a dark alley.  She would frighten anyone of a nervous disposition.

‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Mrs…’

‘Little.  Our name…Little!  But you can call me Mrs Little.’

‘Oh, of course, Martin did tell me but I have no memory for names or faces.’

I entertained the hope that I would be similarly afflicted but unfortunately I could tell she was going to be a permanent fixture in my mind.  Oh, son, I thought to myself, however did you get pounced on by this man eating trollop?  I felt pretty sure that was what she was.  She had all the hallmarks.  Face made up like a trollop, the clothes she wore proclaimed her a trollop and if that wasn’t enough she worked nights. At what, I wondered.

Still, Martin had brought her home and I didn’t want to let him down so I said,

'Bring your glass through to the dining room,' forgetting that she didn't have a glass, 'I’m about to start serving up.’

The table was set with the starters already on the table.  I’d done a beautiful Prawn cocktail and it looked delicious.  Then Madam says,

‘I’m so sorry but I don’t eat sea food of any kind.’

‘You don’t look as if you eat anything at all.’ I said exasperated.

‘Oh, I can be a gannet when I want to be,’ she said.   ‘It’s just that I don’t fancy this.’

I’ll swing for her before the night’s out I think to myself.

‘I could do you a Florida cocktail if that would help.’

‘That would be nice…very quaint,’ she said.

‘Very quaint’ what did she mean by that, I was thinking, as I fought to keep my hands from her throat?  It seemed to me that whenever she seemed to be saying something nice there was always a sting or barb in the tail.  How did my Martin get himself hitched up with this one? All his other girlfriends were nice looking young things with nice personalities and much nearer to his age than this Bernice.  First off, she didn’t have a nice personality, second she was a right plain Jane, third she was downright rude and fourth my usually sensible son hung on her every word.

Anyway to cut a long story short the evening was a disaster we just didn’t hit it off but unfortunately, despite this lack of rapport, Martin carried on seeing her.  However, after that disastrous first night, on the few occasions we were present in the same room she always managed to send me home seething.  So, you can imagine how delighted I was when after they had been going out for something like six months she got offered a job abroad.  I was over the moon when Martin told me she had taken it. 

Unfortunately, this didn’t bring the relationship to an end as I thought and hoped it would.  No, they regularly corresponded and Martin made quite a few trips over to Spain to see her.  I think she had been working over there for about eighteen months and Martin was still in regular contact with her and it was obvious to me that they were still a couple. 

Anyway, one day he gets a letter from her telling him the weather had been dreadful and she was thinking of coming home because it had not stopped raining for about three weeks.  I said that can’t be right the weather man on the television tonight gave the weather for the continent and he said Spain was sunny with temperatures of 28 degrees Celsius.

‘Yes,’ said Martin but not where Bernice is.  Where she is they are experiencing abnormal weather conditions and the apartment she is living in is leaking like a sieve and she can’t keep anything dry, not even her clothes.

‘Oh dear,’ I said, ‘that must be so galling to know the rest of Spain is enjoying normal  weather but poor Bernice is having to endure torrential rain as well as having to wear damp clothes..  That can’t be pleasant for the girl.’

‘Blimey, Mum,’ said Martin, ‘you’ve changed your tune.’

‘What do you mean?’ I said.

‘Well, you’re not usually so sympathetic where Bernice is concerned.’

‘I can’t deny we’ve had our differences and in comparison to all your other girlfriends she doesn’t particularly have an endearing personality.  On top of that she suffers from what my sister would call an unfortunate face.’

‘Looks aren’t everything, Mum,’ he said, ‘but I’m glad you can at least feel sympathy for her in her present situation.’

‘Oh, indeed I can, son.’

Luckily he didn’t see me look to the Heavens and mouth the words,

‘Thank you God!’

It seems the words from that well known song are rooted in truth.  The rain in Spain does fall mainly on the plain!   

End