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Tuesday, 12 April 2016

BOREDOM A short story

Boredom a short story

It was a funeral as you imagine the typical funeral. Autumn . damp. few people in the rain. A cemetery on the confines of South London. a place where hardly any one went unless it was for funerals  A place you passed on dark  days and just looked from a car racing to a better destination and then totally forgot
The religious person  read what he had to read. the same things they read about everyone, you know, what a fine person they had been, how they had graced God’s good earth with their prescence, all that stuff. they’d say that about a complete arsehole or a saint.



When all was said and all was done Peter Laydon drove his defunct Mother’s Bentley back to the family home . It was a nice home, a place that had always been a safety net to Laydon. it had gables and turrets and all the trimmings of mid-Victorian London.
A huge garden out back and no near neighbours.It was near Hampstead Heath and it was perfect for a man such as Laydon whose only real passion in life was the book and books ,lots of them.
A normal day for Laydon was a quick pint at his nearest pub The Spaniards and then up and over the point of Jack Straws Castle and onto the bookshops in Hampstead Village.

 A good walk every day full of anticipation, longing and need. Even though he knew he'd see the same books over and over again. People threw books away these days or gave them to the charity shop and for some reason Laydon couldn't touch Charity books with the same enthusiasm.
 He walked into the hall and took his shoes off as his Mother always wanted him to as the marble was pure Sicilian Rose. He slipped on some slippers and left the house keys on the hall table. He went through to the kitchen, that was totally modern and totally white. He opened the fridge and took out a can of Waitrose special ale. He poured it into a glass and drank it doiwn in one go.He told himself he should go easy on the beer because he was getting middle aged spread a bit too early but he woolfed the beer down all the same then got another one.

He felt safe here . It had always been his place to hide from the world. so many rooms and so many memories of silence, not the silence of negativity simply that of people who said things when they needed to say them.
A place of refuge and the last time had been over 25 years ago. His bride of only eighteen months had left a note for him and in it she said that she didn’t want to go on with him, that she’d met someone else. It was signed Judith but in his mind he said Judith Smith.He remembered this nearly every day. He tried to understand if it was because she'd left him and he couldn't stand the snub.
He actually couldn't understand if he had really loved her. She had been quite amazing.
Later on as the years passed he’d seen that she’d become the medical head of a West Country region . She had seemed to worship him in the beginning and then from out of nowhere she’d gone.
 He sometimes called her up on the internet, called her up as in going on to the Westbridge health Service for Wiltshire. She did not know it was him. He asked her about obscure sexual stuff but she always gave a correct professional response.
 There he’d find her monthly newsletter to the people of that health area giving them advice and asking for feed back. He’d sent feedback and asked if swallowing semen was good for the health. A kind of silly revenge.
It had been here, right in Mum’s kitchen that Judith on her knees had swallowed whole the cum load of Peter Laydon . A stunning red head of 15 years old and he at nineteen getting the first blow job of his life.That was another thing that kept going into his mind all the time.
He couldn't stand the thought that she'd moved on to other more interesting blow jobs.
He’d married her when she was 18 and even though he knew in his heart that he’d married someone who was at most in love with love he’d hoped for the best.
But from the first days he knew that she was destined
for better things, the thing was she was just better than he was, maybe a better word would be acute, yes
just more acute than him.He hated her in a terrible way but longed for her teenage red golden hair now gone and replaced by a kind of boring blond red hair to hide the grey crept in.He had seen her photograph introducing herself as the head of the medical centre.
.
He was quite pleased that she’d been stricken recently with M.E. He’d seen that by writing her name on Google and the Farrington gull advertiser had proclaimed TOP DOCTOR STRICKEN BY M.E.

That was what God has fucking given you you stupid old bag he thought but he had another vision of her.18 years old and a Burne Jones vision, a thank you to men from the almighty saying this can be made too.

the M.E , well that made him feel she was human because everything she’d done since giving him the elbow had been a success if you can call med shit a  success.
She'd wander into his mind at odd moments especially at night and then he'd feel the loss.
He'd search the computer for all traces of her but it was all the same old news, nothing personal.
He had tracked her home down on Google Earth and stood below her windows, those of a fantastic Tudor period house.He had also hired an on-line private detective.He had been told that the husband was a civil rights worker. That made him feel even more contempt. 
 As Mother said leave well alone that which is not your world.

Mother said that most people did things like civil rights out of boredom.
She’d married a man with the surname of Winston . He fought for the rights of Palestinians and other stuff like that. he was also a qualified Doctor.That man was her second husband but her real husband.
Thats what she had said in her last letter to Laydon.
He’d come to hate people like Judith who he decided only had one goal in life and that was to marry a prick who was a dentist or a doctor but he knew that might quite easily not be true. Judith had seen through him. He’d never had a proper job and never needed one for living off Mum was normal. She had money and she didn’t mind him using it. But he had seen her become one of those old bags trying to cling on to their womanhood by doing all the things that women like that do.

"Need any money for the week love" She’d say as she’d be going up to the West End. a kind of ritual on a Monday morning and he’d say "If thats Ok Mum"

So she’d drop him 300 pounds every Monday and life was a gas and went on being a gas for years until now and when he thought of Judith.

Mother had gone quick, heart attack. Since she had gone he’d been eating at various eateries in Hampstead Village  not too far from his home but tonight he’d have to cook because Mother’s money wasn’t around. He decided he’d have to sort it out at the bank the next day.


He picked up the phone and rang Jim O’Dowell a friend of his Mother’s and who knew a lot about most things.O'Dowell was the proverbial out of work actor. He'd done a series once in the 70's called "Doctor
Dee" . It had gone on for two years then the star of the series George Robold had been killed in a hit and run.
And that had been that. By that time O'Dowell had cashed in on his brief fame and bought a huge villa
in Greenwich when prices were low. He was the type of actor they get when fat crinkled and boozy are needed.
Then he had had a black mass of hair but now it was totally white.
"Jim its me"

"Oh hello, how do you feel, I suppose terrible, silly question. It was a nice service though"

"well you know how I feel , I can imagine you do jim"

"Of course"

"well I need some advice"

"Ask me"

"Well Mum organised all the money and now I’ve got exactly 45 quid in my pockets so what do I do about the bank account?"

"Well you’ll have to wait till they read the will but everything will go to you I’m sure"

"Yeh but do you think the bank will give me an advance tomorrow if I go in"

" think not, so , but look I can give you a few hundred to tide you over"

"Oh thanks Jim"

"Shall I come over"?

"No I’ll come round to you".

"No don't worry I fancy coming over to Greenwich, I will leave now"

He drove over to Jim’s, it was a long drive and not easy as it rained all the way. He was welcomed by the middle aged artist in his flat near the waterfront in greenwich.the Villa had long gone, sold to American Iranians for 5,000,0000 and one fifth of that had bought the flat. It was an ex-council flat on one of those Peabody type estates that now got big bucks for location as most were built in what was then a small Victorian city and therefore located near to the centre.O'Dowell was in no way feeling guilty of
taking a dwelling intended for the poor worker.
Neo-Libs like him were mostly words and no idea
of Marx or what he really intended but they would always get upset at the word "Paki" or "Wog".
It was all the same a pokey little flat.Jim offered home made beer and gave him the money. They drank the beer chatted then Laydon left.
O'Dowell was boring, why did Mother frequent him? He stopped at a Chippie and bought take away skate and chips . Then he bought champagne at an off-licence, not to celebrate , it was his normal tipple.
He stopped at the burnt down Cutty Sark. It had been said it was a workers blow lamp that had done the trick but most people knew better. It had been hooligans or as they used to say
guttersnipes who had nothing to do every night.Greenwich council knew all too well that it had
been an act of arson by youths on the estate opposite.
He drove home and ate in front of the t.v then realised that since the funeral he felt kind of happy. Why am I happy he asked himself?
 Fuck my Mother has just been buried but I’m happy. He told himself he was seriously fucked up. He then thought about Judith ....yeh maybe she knew I was fucked up. Then a vision of her saying , pleading with him "Will you promise to always love me". And  "I’m not a virgin and I have to confess that to you.This boy I went out with had sex with me on his couch. I didn’t want to but he was kind of overpowering, does it matter"?
He was so pleased she needed to confess, that was real love, something absolutely tangible.
But it hadn't gone on long. He'd neglected her and the thing that he now felt had hammered him into oblivion was that he fucked her best friend before they'd married.

She had told him it didn't matter but of course in her heart it did.An example of her future husband.
But why had she then gone on and married him, what had been the point in that?
But then he remembered Graham and Elizabeth her parents, they were not exactly exciting although they were decent people.
The Father had been at odds with the world because no one understood
the great talent he had as a carver of wood. But wood wasn't big in the 70's.
Then it seemed like she just switched herself off. He often wondered what had gone through her mind , she had been so fucking beautiful . He was glad she was now a strained looking old bag on the internet while he had matured well. That was something.

 "I tried all possible ploys but finally I had to leave . I managed to sell all the furniture and all the other crap on e.bay, most of it was good though but never really realised its value"

He supped my mug of tea in the victory caff in commercial road with bernkie his work mate . He had found a job and stayed at Jim's flat for a bit and then the  council had given me a pokey flat on the other side of Greenwich.

"You shudda just stayed" Said bernkie


The house was sold for about two thirds of its price and some yups moved in with a kid. Thats what he’d been told. the job with the council was sweeping the streets . it was mindblowingly dull as well as hard for it had started to get cold.

He thought about suicide but didnt have the courage.Bernkie in the caff the next day said.

"When you start sweeping streets you never get out of it you know"

He asked what he meant and Bernkie replied "No one ever leaves , its the end of the road, the poncey bastards that all live ere avoid our gaze on the streets cos they know its the end of the road"

"Why are you called Bernkie instead of Bernie"

"Well my little sister couldn’t say bernie when she was a baby and she said Bernkie. Everyone thought it was funny and it stuck, it is really funny ain' it" Bernkie then laughed a lot

He thought Bernkie and his family were even more moronic than before.



 Bernkie invited him over to his place, a council flat on the Thames that Bernkies mum had had since the 50’s until she’d got ill and stuck her head in the gas oven.He’d accepted , he had nothing better to do

It was exactly furnished as you would have furnished it in the 50’s and if you had very limited worksman wages. but he was pleased to see it was clean, too clean  , exactly the same mind set  as the
hoarders who live in pig shit order.

Come and sit down yer cunt" Said Bernkie pleasantly.

He poured out too classes of beer. It was Discovery , a good one.

"Wanna see somethin funny" said Bernkie

"Ok"

He put on the video and straight away he saw it was his Mother . he was shocked .

"Gary Billman gave me this one down at the depot, He loves grannies does Gal""



 "Fuckin hell " Laughed Bernkie. "That ol slag can take some"

The Mother was being abused by what they call in the trade three BBC’s. "Thats fuckin sick ain’t it mate but its funny".

He said nothing but just sipped his beer as Bernkie laughed . Now he saw that his Mother was being back fucked by a huge BBC and he wondered what the fuck she was actually doing being a woman about town.

"Anyway I had enough of that lets watch Walker"Said Bernkie.

Bernkie switched off the video and put Walker on. No interest in porn but could see the funny side of things.

"Do you like Walker Bern"?

"Yeh I used to do Karate but I got bored mate. I always get bored. I had a bird once called Terri but she bored me. I never ever fucked her even".

"Was she upset when you elbowed her"?

"No she elbowed me"

"What did she say"?

"She just disappeared but I did hear speak she’s up Nottingham way"

"Shame"

"No mate no bird in her right mind would wanna live with me. I sweep other people’s shit so anyone interested in me must be something wrong with em".

Yeah see what you mean mate"

"Youre in the same boat mister"

Yeh I am"

Wanna Makesons mate"?

"Nah gotta go mate see you tomorrow"

"We gotta sweep WIMSDALE ROAD tomorrow"

"Have we"?

"Yeh thats where that copper was shot in the 60’s. created a stir that did"

Bernkie remembered everything and dwelt on things.

"Why"?

"Why what"

"Why did they kill him"?

"They killed him for no reason. Two greasers. Things happen for no reason quite a lot"

He said bye to Bernkie and walked across the square in front of the council flats.He stood on the embankment and looked out into the Thames. He lit a ciggie and inhaled. It was almost midnight.Then he turned and walked fast . walked home.








 In Wimsdale Road Bernkie said " You look happy mate. Thats a bad sign cos when you get happy in this job you never leave".

"I won’t be staying if I can help it"

The Naval Academy could be seen from where they were sweeping and it wasn’t a bad day. At lunchtime they went in Wetherspoons and had the 4.95 hamburger deal. They both had abbotts with their Burgers.
Bob Boulder of 56 Frimsdown House Greenwich. West Ham supporter also called West Ham Bob. Liked by cass Pennant was on Bernkies mind  .

Bernkie got another two pints in after they finished eating. Then he said.

"You know Boulder down at the depot"?

"Yeah"

"He killed his Dad in 1968 when he was 9"

"Yeah he looks the type "

"Killed him with a scouts pen knife, slit the fucker’s throat"

"Why"?

"No one knows AND Gary Billman left the job today gotta a job with the river boats"

When they got back to the depot they both showered, the depot had open showers where all the men showered in view of each other and next to each other.

"lot of queers like this job cos of the showering" Said Bernkie

"you mean they get a job sweeping up so they can see another blokes dick in the shower?"

"If you understood some of the really stupid things people do you’d understand that what I just said"

"I knew a bloke once who got a job grave digging cos he liked decomposition, the smell of it"

"Thats totally different " Said Bernkie as he washed his balls with soap. "Thats patholigal"

"Is it"

"Yeah sweeping up then getting a shower with the blokes is weird but what you are talking about is like serial killer stuff".
Greenwich of course was more or less a last outpost of the Old London. It was still strange, it was still mysterious and still imbibed something that the rest of London didn’t seem to have.


There was a sea air quality about Greenwich , something of the Shanty in it all, it seemed to belong to weirdos like Bernkie who had had his name made up for him by a baby girl and it belonged to Boulder who was seriously loony.

Bernkie in Brighton Bernkie  remembered , he had talked to a nice girl for ages.

That was obvious ever since they had gone to Boulders flat. It was like a kind of Georgian mini theatre ; everything inside was the opposite of a shit hole council flat.The strange thing was that Boulder was so dull.

"I didn’t do all this" Said Boulder. "My Brother did. He was a raving arse bandit"

"Was he" Said Bernkie on the snide smiling out the side of his mouth .

"Yeah he liked big fat Turks" Said Boulder. "Like em he did, used to fuckin pay the greasy cunts".

"Did he" Again the snide look of Bernkie

"I fuckin topped him" replied Boulder. "See I love women deep down, my bird was a false blond you know, she got fruity one night and got nude but I'll be honest with yer I couldn't get it up, I was limp like,she
was ok bout it but I think it put her off you know,cos lets face it they deep down inside want a nice hard cock. You wouldn't of fucked her though cos of the false blond thing. I think I wudda got hard if she had been wearing transparent pants though. I have to say that".

.
 "Did the Ol Bill find out"? Said Bernkie

"I didn’t really kill him but I kind of drove him to suicide" Said Boulder

"Did you"?

"Chucked himself in the Thames"

"Was you sad after" Asked Boulder

"Was I fuck"!!!!!!

"So you are glad"

"Yeah well pleased. Every time I went in the boozer I could hear em behind my back sayin theres Boulder with the woofda Bruvver, never said it to me fuckin face though cos if they hadda done I would av ad em fuckin screaming"

"Did he dress funny" ? asked Bernkie

"Used to dress like a woofda. Used to wear fuckin sequins and shit"

"Did they find his body" asked Bernkie

"Never found" Replied Boulder

"Never"?

"No never but thats enuff I ad enuff of fuckin talkin bout im lets have a drink. Gin?"

The next day Bernkie was near the Cutty Sark sweeping and said "See that Cutty Sark there, well that is an example of entrepeneurship , you got quite a nice area but not enough to get tourists to come so you get an old boat and then you complete the reason for them to come, see what I mean".

"Yeh good idea really"
"Cos without the Cutty sark no one would really want to come here would they"
"Yeh spose so"
"And have you noticed the high street ,its all eating places, all of it, thats cos of tourists and thats cos of the Cutty Sark"
"Yeh"
"Could do it anywhere ya know, take Tottenham,  no one wants to go there but if you stuck lets say a good Nelson Mandella statue there they would all go".
"Yeh spose they would but I wouldnt"
"You wouldnt but loads of cunts would,they love all that Nelson Mandella crap, he blew up kids you know"
"Did he"
"Yeh in reality a terrorist".
"But everyone says good stuff about him"
"Yeh well why do they all hate Bin Laden then"?
"Cos he was a terrorist"
"Yeh well so was Mandela"
"So if the Cutty Sark wasnt here you are saying that would be the end of Greenwich as a tourist spot"
"Yeh no cunt would come here"
They knocked off for lunch and went in the Witherspoons. After getting their beers Bernkie said " I hate this pub to be honest "
"Why"
"Cos its full of Pissy pants , ol fucks who piss themselves, the stench of dry piss is unbearable sometimes you know"
They sat at a window table and the pub was crowded . Bernkie had ordered food . After a short time his steak pie and Chips arrived,. "This is shit food really but only 5.99 so you can't grumble ".
After they went back to sweeping, it started to rain hard so they walked back to the depot, no one was expected to work in driving rain . After they had showered Bernkie said " Oh well be seeing you then"
"Yeh see you tomorrow"
"Yeh"
Bernkie was dressed and  walked out of the depot but Layden waited , he had had enough of Bernkies negative thoughts, he waited till Bernkie was well out of the building then he left and walked to The Ship, it was in a little back street with some victorian cottages now taken over by yuppies. He ordered a Pint and sat at the window looking out on the Thames as the water lapped the side of the pub













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