Legend of the Pah - 3 (S T Vasectomy Clinic)

 

‘What word?’

 

‘Doesn’t matter. Robert won’t want it. A Ford Crapri! That’s what we always called them. Honestly Alistair, you’re so deluded, he’s not even got a parking space at uni. I thought we agreed that you’d sell it but it’s still there just like that bloody hamster cage….only three hundred times bigger.’

 

‘The hamster cage? Is that still there? I thought I’d taken it to the dump years ago.’

 

‘It’s still there Alistair,’ she tutted,‘that’s half the trouble, you don’t even see these things.’

 

‘Well there’s no reason why you can’t go to the dump.’

 

Lynne took a deep breath. ‘I thought we agreed, it’s your job to go to the dump and put the bins out but most of the time you forget to do that too. Either take it there or sell it, I don’t mind but just get shot of it.’

 

‘Can’t sell that. I remember the wee patch doesn’t come off, it’s indelible. I tried everything to remove it, bleach, brillo pads…..a steak knife.’

 

‘A steak knife?’

 

‘Yes! Remember she always went in the same spot, didn't she, Robert’s hamster.’

 

Lynne nodded and smiled to herself. ‘He loved that hamster, I bet you don’t even remember her name do you.’

 

‘I do. Party Ring, that was her name.’

 

‘Party Ring,’ Lynne sighed. ‘It was those tubes that caused her to prolapse, those plastic cages were actually no good at all for rodents. We should have got a traditional one. It’s bin day Tuesday, maybe it will fit in the wheelie bin.’

 

‘Maybe. I’ll try and get it in there later when I’ve finished…’

 

‘Finished what?’

 

‘What I’m doing.’

 

‘What are you doing?’

 

‘Stuff. I’m having ideas.’

 

‘Good because you need to know that I’ve made you an appointment in town, I thought I’d give you a few days to get used to the idea. It’s on Wednesday at seven pm, they have a special late night opening for busy...men like you.’

 

Alistair placed his knife and fork down either side of his plate and swallowed hard. He hadn’t really heard much after the word idea, Lynne had spoken so quickly he had to play it back in his head. An appointment? Somehow he felt both too old and too young for appointments of any medical sort. Surely he was still in the free flowing bit in the middle where you didn’t have to worry about dull, heavy-weight appointments which could only bring you down and ruin your life. ‘What sort of an appointment?’

 

‘It’s just a consultation regarding what we talked about earlier, you know, the greatest gift a man can give to…’ Lynne pointed at herself, at her large bosom, ‘his wife, that’s me. I can’t tolerate faffing around with condoms anymore, they make me itch, and by the time you’ve taken one out of your secret drawer, unwrapped it, found the end, pulled it, unwound it..’

 

‘Unwound it?’

 

‘Yes! Do you know what it reminds me of?’

 

‘What?’

 

‘It’s like using a salad spinner. You want to eat lettuce, for your body, to maintain your youth and vigour but that whole awkward action of washing it, putting it in a plastic container and winding it round for however long, eurgh!’ Lynne shook her head. ‘I just can’t be dealing with it, Alistair. It’s either the snip or no sex for the next decade.’

 

‘The next decade?’

 

‘Correct.’

 

‘But you’ll be in Brittany anyway.’

 

‘Maybe, but doing this will mean you’ll have more rights when you visit.’

 

‘You had no right to take that step Lynne. Surely it should be up to me to ring the doctors when I feel ready.’

 

‘Just like it’s up to you to sell your car from the last century. Look,Lynne's features softened, she sighed and smiled slightly, ‘do you remember the Hughes’s from when we used to drink at The Fountain on a Friday evening? You know, we used to drop the boys off at Sea Scouts then go and have a sneaky drink.’

 

‘I vaguely recall having the odd drink, well you had a drink, I had to drive the boys back from Sea Scouts.’

 

‘Well, remember there was that flash couple, always there, Cece and Dr Hughes. Remember,’ she laughed, ‘how they always used to win the meat raffle even though Cece is vegetarian.’ Lynne curled up into silent hysterics for a few seconds while shaking her head. 

 

Alistair felt detached suddenly from the rest of the world. He folded his arms and screwed up his eyes and he rummaged through the dusty files in the back of his head. It often seemed to him that his wife had totally different memories of their time together, she would come up with stories, events of some great significance to her but of which he had no recollection whatsoever. This was just such an occasion, Cece and Dr Hughes, he’d never heard of them but he had a vague memory of a meat raffle and he recalled feeling aggrieved at never having won.

 

‘Cece was,’ Lynne paused and looked sour for a second, and indeed is, a very glamorous woman. I saw her in town just last week, she was in a hat, a felt Fedora, she looked so good, just amazing. Anyway, her husband, St John was a consultant in the NHS, a top consultant of you know whats, before they moved into the sterilisation industry, it’s all private and therefore pristine. Cece called it luxuriant, she said she could do a special price since we’re all friends from way back.

 

The colour drained from Alistair’s face. I must be in a parallel universe, he thought and he immediately summoned the dog. ‘Solo, Solo!’

 

Solo was old and grey, his once glossy black coat was scattered with white flecks and his tail had turned a bizarre burgundy shade but his eyes were still full of love. He walked a stiff walk to the kitchen and looked at Alistair, wagging his tail slightly and shifting his attention to the plate on the table.

 

‘He thinks you’re giving him leftovers, you horrible man.’

 

‘I just need to know that I’m not dreaming.’

 

Something told him that you cannot smell during your dreams so he leant forward, placed his nose five or six inches from the dog’s neck and inhaled, detecting the familiar smell of his canine friend.

 

‘What are you doing! Oh Solo, just ignore him, he’s always been jealous of you. Do you know I might take up smoking again when I move to France. I think it will help with all this stress I’m under and they all do it there don’t they, smoke, drink and you know, engage with each other. I won’t be engaging with you anymore unless you keep your appointment at Cece Hughes Vasectomy Clinic.’

 

‘Squeezy Tubes Vasectomy Clinic?’

 

‘Cece, Cece Hughes! My god Alistair, haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said.’