A BLOODY GOOD READ

A BLOODY GOOD READ

They say a good book comes before lust when you hit seventy. Well I`ve tried it and it ain`t true. Not unless it`s a decent Rankin.
Edwina`s her name. As names` go I`ll admit it`s a bit crappy, reminds me of eggs and John Major. She`s married to Bernard. He`s a Conductor with a famous Symphony Orchestra. Personally I think they all look a bit silly, waving a bloody stick at a set of stuck-up fiddle players.
Don`t get me wrong I like Bernard. We hit it off the minute we met at a church flower festival. They do flowers you see, Edwina and Chrissie. Chrissie`s my wife by the way. Forty-two years this September. We were all planning to go on a cruise up the Rhine then our daughter Katie told us she`d got into a spot of bother with her Virgin credit card. Bernard said they didn`t mind, flesh and blood and all that, said there was always next year.
I keep saying I`m going to make a move, shift things on a bit. You know, nibble Edwina`s neck in the Library, things like that. Trouble is I probably wont. Well I can`t hurt Chrissie can I, and as for Bernard, well I`d never be able to look him in the eye when we`re having our little chats over coffee and hobnobs. So there it is. Unrequited love I think they call it. Thank God I`ve still got Rebus and that poor Siobhan....