Dear President Putin.

Dear President Putin,
I am aware that you are the only world leader who has been attempting to warn the people of all nations that we are being sleep walked into WW3. I applaud you for your attempts to warn the world.
But now, what with NATO and Trump, that prospect is closer than it has ever been!
However, your ally, Iranian President Rouhani’s predecessor Mr. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad talked about the coming of the 12th Imam, coming as a girl, in his excellent speech at the United Nations General Assembly in 2012. I have attempted to connect with you many times since then because I happen to know that both you and I, Mr. Putin, were sent by God to avert this very crisis and usher in the golden age of peace and lasting security for all, as Mr. Ahmadinejad prophecied in his brilliant address, which certain ones, shamefully, walked out on!
But I was there during that terrible summer of 2014 Mr. Rouhani, I stood alone armed only with my pen against the aggressor…
https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2014/07/26/an-open-letter-to-mr-netanyahu-long-version/
However, as you are about to discover, I have quite a story to tell, the mystic Iranian nation will see the truth. As Mr. Ahmadinejad so beautifully put it…”The arrival of the Ultimate Savior, Jesus Christ and the Righteous will bring about an eternally bright future for mankind, not by force or waging wars but through thought awakening and developing kindness in everyone. Their arrival will breathe a new life in the cold and frozen body of the world. He will bless humanity with a spring that puts an end to our winter of ignorance, poverty and war with the tidings of a season of blooming.” “God Almighty has promised us a man of kindness, a man who loves people and loves absolute justice, a man who is a perfect human being and is named Imam A1-Mahdi, a man who will come in the company of Jesus Christ (PBUH) and the righteous. By using the inherent potential of all the worthy men and women of all nations and I repeat, the inherent potential of “all the worthy men and women of all nations” he will lead humanity into achieving its glorious and eternal ideals. The arrival of the Ultimate Savior will mark a new beginning, a rebirth and a resurrection. It will be the beginning of peace, lasting security and genuine life. His arrival will be the end of oppression, immorality, poverty, discrimination and the beginning of justice, love and empathy.”
I have to say to Mr. Rouhani however, that in this life, God sent me to be an independent woman, sexually ‘sinful?’, in order to show the mortal men who treat women as second class citizens, chattels to men, sex slaves even, once and for all time, that God loves His beloved daughters on earth and He made them to be equal to men…so woe betide any man who treats His precious daughters cruelly!
Mr. Ahmadinejad also shared in his 2012 address to the United Nations General Assembly, “a message that Iran’s great orator and poet, presented to humanity in his eternal two-line poetry: “Human beings are members of a whole, In creation of one essence and soul, If one member is afflicted with pain, Other members uneasy will remain.”
Well my story is going to show humanity how totally true that poem is. Millions of humans with a higher vibration have been working together, on an unconscious spiritual level, to blaze my story, which is also written in the bible, across the sky via the songs of the stars on the airwaves…so that we can finally overcome war and injustice and bring peace to earth.
Here is Mr. Ahmadinejad’s outstanding speech in full in the link…
https://mic.com/articles/15364/mahmoud-ahmadinejad-un-general-assembly-speech-video-translation-full-transcript#.AgWt6MvXM
But yes, Mr. Putin, we DO need to tackle the likes of Isis and all the sick people who cause harm to innocents…but you forget…vengeance is mine saith the Lord thy God. God owns the eternal souls of these misguided fools. It’s like this…
Allahu Akbar, ISIS cry before they maim, murder and blow themselves to smithereens in expectation of a harem of vestal virgins as reward…lol…sorry lads, but being reincarnated to service a herd of shitty arsed cows is the very best you can expect, because yeah, God is great, great enough to tell you that unless you take the filthy, murderous abombinations that your bodies have become and go directly to beg for Allah’s mercy in spirit, then you will spend the rest of all eternity reaping all you have sown in the animal kingdom (food chain), with the awareness of a human for your crimes! You see, God didn’t lie when he said life is eternal, it is, even a blade of grass contains life. However, if you do the right thing and rid the world of the disgraceful, odious and repugnant monstrosities that your bodies have become, then one day in the future, when you have paid your spiritual dues for the harm you have caused to God’s creation and His children therein, then you will be allowed to reincarnate as humans again and come and join us in the dance we are bringing to earth.
I’m afraid it has to be said, that Isis etc., stand more of a chance of winning back their immortal souls than do the likes of Bush and Blair, because Isis and their ilk are the creation of Bush and Blairs crimes against humanity. As are the refugees who are presently homeless and stateless! Those two individuals have a whole LOT to answer too…entire nations laid waste!
I personally know that the type of people who carry on creating hell on earth, will not, in the greater scheme of things, be returning as intelligent life, when they eventually die, as we all do one day…on this planet or any other inhabitable orb in this vast universe. However, like I said, Isis, etc., who have lived in sour times, most of whom are piss poor uneducated people, stand more of a chance of regaining their eternal lives than do the intelligent ‘leaders?’ who know exactly what destruction their politics cause.

I have put the following open letter out to you several times over the years Mr. Putin. You clearly didn’t receive it! I hope ‘the word’s reach you this time because you have done good and you can do a lot better…but you have also gone astray…you need to restore the balance to save yourself. You CAN do it. Together we CAN save this sadly abused little orb from the ship of fools.
https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2015/11/30/an-open-letter-to-mr-putin/
But as you are also well aware Mr. Putin, Gods creation is in her death throes (although this CAN be reversed). However, she CAN NOT take another world war!
https://ireneconstant999.wordpress.com/2016/08/11/i-know-not-what-weapons-ww3-will-be-fought-with-but-ww4-will-be-sticks-and-stones-einstein/
Gary Barlow is getting in on the act on the Graham Norton Show…check it out on you tube. He wears a crucifix riddled suit as he performs Take That’s new single Wonderland.
So will we have Wonderland or WW3? Here’s how Russia and Iran react to Trump attack on syria

Yes, God is Great…

Allahu Akbar, ISIS cry before they maim, murder and blow themselves to smithereens in expectation of a harem of vestal virgins as reward…lol…sorry lads, but being reincarnated to service a herd of shitty arsed cows is the very best you can expect, ’cause yeah, God is great, great enough to tell you that unless you take the filthy, murderous abombinations that your bodies have become and go directly to beg for God’s mercy in spirit, then you will spend the rest of all eternity reaping all you have sown in the animal kingdom (food chain), with the awareness of a human!
You see, God didn’t lie when he said life is eternal, it is, even a blade of grass contains life. However, if you do the right thing and rid the world of the disgraceful, odious and repugnant monstrosities that your bodies have become, then one day in the future, when you have paid your spiritual dues for the harm you have caused to God’s children, then you will be allowed to reincarnate as humans again and come and join us in the dance we are bringing to earth.
I’m afraid it has to be said that Isis etc., stand more of a chance of winning back their immortal souls than do the likes of Bush and Blair, because these people are the creation of Bush and Blairs crimes against humanity. As are the refugees who are presently homeless and stateless! Those two individuals have a whole LOT to answer to…entire nations laid waste! So here’s an idea, how about we tell the world leaders that we’ve had enough? Tell them that we are sick to the pits of our stomachs that OUR money is being spent to kill people, OUR money is being used to create refugees, OUR money is being used to create hatred and unrest! I personally know that the type of people who carry on creating hell on earth will not, in the greater scheme of things, be returning as intelligent life when they eventually pop their clogs, as we all do one day…they will be returning as anything but human, if indeed humans survive the destruction these people have caused on planet earth? However, like I said, Isis, Boko Harem etc., (most of whom are piss poor uneducted people)
Riz MC – Sour Times [Lyrics]

stand more of a chance of regaining their eternal lives than do the intelligent ‘leaders?’ who know exactly what destruction their politics cause. So, you are allowing spiritually dead people to wreck havoc on ordinary peoples lives! You are the people, you are the voice, you could come together as one and tell these lunatics where to get off, you could insist that your money is spent on rebuilding and regenerating the nations that have been destroyed by mad men, you could spread the love…
https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2014/07/11/an-open-letter-to-all-our-muslim-brothers-and-sisters/
So, who am I?
I am a ‘sinful?’ woman who carries a certain number along with my name 😉 I am not without qualification for the words I utter 🙂
We live in an inside out upside down world, so if that is how their God carries on then I’m batting for the other side.
In numerology my number is 999…Jesus = 9, Christ = 9 and 6+6+6=1+8= 9
https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2014/04/26/2/

https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2014/04/26/inside-the-devil-and-all-his-works/

Revelation. Chapter 13 v 18.

Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six.
Teddy Killerz. Countdown. “Your days are numbered…the grim reaper says you’re wanted. Your judgements calling…1,2,3,4,5, 3-6’s…upside down emergency 3-6’s.”

In John Michell’s book The City of Revelation, he suggests that the beast rising out of the sea and Christ are one and the same…

https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2014/05/26/666-999/

In the early 90’s I went to war with the newly privatized Yorkshire Water ‘Services?’ who were pumping raw sewage into the sea while robbing us blind…it happened in that same town where Arthur Brown that old God of Hell Fire landed on earth…but he’s not the God of Hell Fire…I am. 🙂
‘Cause I is a bad un lol…Revelation 9 v 11. And they had a King over them, the angel of the Abyss, whose name in Hebrew is Abaddon.
Revelation 1 v 18. I am s/he that liveth, and was dead; and behold, I am alive for ever more, A-men, and I have the keys of hell and death.

https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/about/

John Michell The New View Over Atlantis. Page. 186.

The New Jerusalem.

The importance of reconstructing the pattern on the floor of the Old Church at Glastonbury was repeatedly emphasized in Bligh Bond’s scripts. One of them said: ‘You know that in this designing of the floor lies the future prophesy of Glastonbury, together with the inward secrets of Christianity.
My God sent me to live a ‘sinful’ life in order to show these religious zealots, once and for all time, that women are God’s beloved daughters who are free to live life as they please, NOT as mere mortal men dictate! They also ought to know He is incandescent with rage that they use His Holy name to subjugate His beloved daughters! So when those people return to spirit and come face to face with God, there IS going to be hell to pay!
As for me, He has gifted me a universal orchestra to sing my second coming, which is also written in the book.
So here I am, come to take your brain to another dimension…

Pay close attention…
Matthew 11 v 19
The son of man came eating and drinking, and they say, Behold, a gluttonous man and a wine bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners. And wisdom is justified by HER works.

S John 12 v 47 48
And if any man hear my sayings, and keep them not, I judge him not: for I came not to judge the world, BUT TO SAVE THE WORLD.
He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my sayings, hath one that judgeth him: the word that I spake, the same shall judge him in the last days.
For I spake not from myself; but the father which sent me, he hath given me a commandment, what I should speak.
And I know that his commandment is life eternal: the things therefore which I speak, even as the father hath said unto me, so I speak.

Revelation 19 v 15 16
And out of his mouth proceedeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod of iron: and he treadeth the winepress of the fierceness of the wrath of Almighty God.
And he hath on his GARMENT (life work) and on his THIGH a name written, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords.

Romans 8 v 3
For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own son in the likeness of sinful flesh and as an offering for sin, condemned sin in the flesh.

Hebrews 9 v 28
So Christ also, having been offered to bear the sins of many, shall appear a second time, apart from sin, to them that wait for him, unto salvation.
Corinthians 2 Ch. 8 v 9.
For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might become rich.

I know not what weapons WW3 will be fought with, but WW4 will be sticks and stones.

Mr Putin is shouting that nuclear war is coming? He is appealing for the world to wake up to this fact because the fools who presently run the world and the lying media clowns could well cause the destruction of the entire planet!

And John Pilger: Washington prepares for World War III…”America, nuclear weapons are on high alert, as are Russia’s. China who had nuclear weapons on low alert have taken on board that China is being seriously threatened and has submarines on patrol, armed with nuclear weapons, in the Pacific ocean for the first time!”

Albert Einstein quote…

“I know not with what weapons WW3 will be fought, but WW4 will be fought with sticks and stones.”

“BREXIT SIGN OF SECOND COMING…”Published on 29 Jun 2016. “The United Kingdom Of Great Britain just made a move that triggers the start of ancient end times prophecy, THAT INDICATES THE RETURN OF CHRIST IS EVEN AT THE DOORS!! ”

Towards the end of the video, this chap states that the young lions are countries. The bible is brilliantly multifarious in its many layered meanings. I can show you the young lions whose gifts are much better than silver and gold. They are spiritual truths. And many of these young lions are spreading their gifts on Englands green and pleasant land now.
He also points out how England is now doing trade with those very nations who have no respect for the human rights of their people!

https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2015/10/15/calling-all-youth-free-world-to-usher-in-tell-em-how-it-is/

So who am I?

Well, in numerology my number is 999. Jesus = 9, Christ = 9 and 6+6+6 = 1+8 = 9. Turn it upside down and what do you have? 666 the number of the biblical beast.😉
Inside the Devil and All His Works, Gabriel blows his horn and Seven Trumpets.

https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2016/03/05/gabriel-blows-his-horn-seven-trumpets/

Did you think God doesn’t have a sense of humour?

Check out the book of revelation because in the early 90’s I took on the newly privatized Water Authority. I am exceedingly beastly towards those who harm me or mine and disrespect the creation that sustains us! See Iron Maiden and W.A.S.P. below. Beastly dragon rising out of the sea?

The number 666 goes back to Glastonbury Abbey, the same Glastonbury where all those wicked free people gather to dance to the devil’s demonic music.😉 And there is a book, The City of Revelation that states that the beast rising out of the sea and Christ are one and the same.

https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2015/07/25/glastonbury-and-666/

We are fulfilling the book of revelation…and look who sold their souls to the devil   😉

Iron Maiden. “The Number Of The Beast”

“Woe to you, oh Earth and Sea, for the Devil sends the beast with wrath,
Because he knows the time is short…
Let him who hath understanding reckon the number of the beast
For it is a human number,
Its number is Six hundred and sixty six.”
I left alone, my mind was blank.
I needed time to think, to get the memories from my mind.
What did I see?
Can I believe that what I saw that night was real and not just fantasy.
Just what I saw in my old dreams
Were they reflections of my warped mind staring back at me?
‘Cause in my dreams it’s always there
The evil face that twists my mind and brings me to despair
The night was black, was no use holding back
‘Cause I just had to see, was someone watching me
In the mist dark figures move and twist
Was all this for real, or just some kind of hell?
666 the number of the beast
Hell and fire was spawned to be released
Torches blazed and sacred chants were praised
As they start to cry hands held to the sky
In the night the fires are burning bright
The ritual has begun, Satan’s work is done
666 the number of the beast
Sacrifice is going on tonight
This can’t go on I must inform the law
Can this still be real or just some crazy dream?
But I feel drawn towards the chanting hordes
They seem to mesmerise, can’t avoid their eyes
666 the number of the beast
666 the one for you and me
I’m coming back
I will return
And I’ll possess your body and I’ll make you burn
I have the fire
I have the force
I have the power to make my evil take its course

W.A.S.P. “Babylon’s Burning”

Listen close to hooves you hear
Are thunders coming dread
John the Revelator’s dream
Had seen a terror vision
Of the spirit led
With wrath to reign
And with slaves to flame
They kneeled and sealed a kiss
Plagues and pain and fiery rain
And blaspheme on his lips
Babylon’s a-burning, Babylon’s a-burning
Six hundred 6, 6 and 7 seals
A pale rider and his horses sing
Babylon’s a-burning, Babylon’s a-burning
Six hundred 6, 6 the rising beast
Bears the mark of Babylon to be

Arising with the beast a sea of men
A bloody moon of red
A whore of Babylon to bleed the seed
And make ’em take the mark upon their heads
They bowed and kneeled a mark to seal
Their souls unto a kiss
With fire and flames and with
Souls to claim
And rise from the abyss

[Revelation 13]

And I stood upon the sand of the sea ……
And saw a beast rise out of the sea ……
Having ten horns and seven heads
Ten crowns upon his head
Who is like unto the beast?
Given his mouth great things to speak
If any man has an ear
Let him hear, let him hear

https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/about/

Who can fight the beast?

Now listen to what happened at Glastonbury…

“Is that Jesus on the water flowing with the poisons? Your saviour is waiting patiently. Wade in the water, God’s gonna trouble the water.”

PJ Harvey performing at Glastonbury a few weeks ago…

Damn right God is gonna trouble those who pollute and defile the pure water that He gave freely for ALL to share. Read all about it here…

https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2015/03/02/prophesy-dragon-coming-out-of-the-sea-gabriel-and-his-horn/ leading to ‘The Water of Life.’

Here’s our Matthew of The Human Revolution singing it. Water from the sky…”it’s a rich mans world and the poor child dies…water from the skies in a land bestowed by God…feed all of my people before you build another bomb…nick knack paddy wack give the banker a bone so he can pay the mortgage on his second summer home…”

…well the bankers and the earth polluters need to wake up to the fact that life is a circle, it goes round and around, and this being the end of the age of destruction, they need to turn around and begin putting back all they’ve taken out if they want their names to remain in the book of eternal life. Here’s the immortal Johnny Cash singing it…”Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers. One hundred million angels singin’. Multitudes are marching to the big kettle drum. Voices callin’, voices cryin’. Some are born an’ some are dyin’. It’s Alpha’s and Omega’s Kingdom come.”

Johnny Cash – God’s Gonna Cut You Down…Oh yes…

The Human Revolution~ Breathe

Also the Herb Wormwood is also known as Old Woman. I’m old.

http://www.witchipedia.com/herb:wormwood

Revelation 8 v 11. And the name of the star is called Wormwood: and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.

http://biblehub.com/revelation/8-11.htm

Well I AM going to make these water polluting, earth destroyers bitter!

This is only one example of the destruction these people have caused…
24th March 1989.
The Exxon Valdez oil tanker slammed into a reef on Alaska’s Prince William Sound, spilling up to 750,000 barrels of crude oil into one of the most pristine places on earth. Today, we remember that horrendous accident—considered to be one of the most devastating manmade environmental disasters ever recorded.

http://ow.ly/uBKqb

Hundreds of thousands of seabirds, otters, seals, whales, and bald eagles died as a result of the Exxon Valdez spill. Many people still remember television images of oil-soaked animals and beaches covered in black gunk. We hope that the Exxon Valdez spill reminds us all of the heavy price we pay when we drill in special places like Alaska and the Arctic.

Toast the earth with Exxon mobil…

Man, evolution and pollution…we are the aliens…😉

Fookin’ brilliant! Ooo I swore, I blasphemed! But I didn’t fookin’ kill anyone though did I all you murderous twazaks out there?! But it is FOOKIN’ BRILLIANT.

Yet hemp will clean it all up…oh, but mortal men have made it illegal!!! Ship of fookin’ fools they are! Here’s our Matthew singing it…

And here’s Henry Fords Hemp car that is run on hemp…

So folks, are you going to help this old woman to break through to the other side and gather the stars to give these mortals who feck the planet up hell?

Revelation. 12 v 4.
And his tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven, and did cast them to the earth: and the dragon stood before the woman which was ready to be delivered, for to devour her child as soon as it was born.

I am calling a third part of the ‘stars’ of heaven or is that hell? Lol. To come back down to earth and stand shoulder to shoulder in this final battle of good over evil.

(Eminem sold his soul…

Fleetwood Mac…witches of the world…

Black Sabbath…they’ve always accepted there is a fifth member of their band, a spiritual member guiding them…4 mins in…

I could go on and on and on…just check out the video’s this ‘Christian?’ joker has done about our family in spirit who ‘sold’ their souls to the devil lol. These sort of ‘Christians?’

want everyone to comply with their rules of how people shoud live!

Listen to the music it tells a story…and General Levy and all the Rasta’s are part of our crew.

https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2015/10/28/halloween-will-soon-be-upon-us/

That’s my boys tellin’ ’em they’re gonna burn in the fire…love you lads…

And there’s more, LOADS more. xxx

Good words…from Cyrus Cameron…

“The state is scared. It was then, and is now. Did we win? The war on terrorism has struck a death blow to our freedoms, given democratic dictatorships the power to control us, keep us poor and govern us for THEIR wealth, security and well being. The one’s who created this mess still have their jobs. The one’s who defrauded us still are not in jail, while innocents go to jail for protesting their rights, to have their say. Arms makers keep making money on the backs of the poor who they send to war.”

Check out the Lions of Tarshish…

Albert Einstein. On Mystery.

“The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed.”

Young Lions…beautiful lions roaring…

William Blake…”and did those feet in ancient times”…prophesy…

http://www.thehypertexts.com/William%20Blake%20Jesus%20Christ.htm

Extracts…”We shouldn’t need poets to persuade us to do what we should want to do voluntarily out of love, compassion and simple humanity, but a study of history reveals that at certain times human beings have needed a Blake or a Harriet Beecher Stowe or a Lincoln or a Gandhi or a Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to shock them out of their lethargy and apathy.”
“One of Blake’s lifelong concerns was to free the soul and its natural energies from the hidebound “reason” of organized religion. He hated the grimy, sooty effects of the Industrial Revolution in England and looked forward to the establishment of a New Jerusalem “in England’s green and pleasant land.” His personal religion was freedom, tolerance and the pursuit of happiness, without artificial limitations and impediments. To him, religious orthodoxy was like a speed bump in the middle of racetrack. He had a heart of all human suffering. But perhaps his greatest enduring legacy is his tender empathy for children, and his fierce, passionate defense of them.”

Exactly…my religion is freedom, tolerance and the pursuit of happiness without the artificial limitations and impediments that are laid upon us by organized religion and oppressive governance. Governments are servants of the people, to keep the nations running smoothly, for the good of the people…all the people, not just the greed ridden few!
So my hearties…would you care to follow me…and together we’ll tell ’em where to shove their their earth and people destroying weapons…

Welcome to my world. My God gifted me a universal orchestra to sing my second coming which is also written in the book. And it’s all happening in Little Britian…

The Judgement Day Revelations. Foreword.

Hi, I’m Constantine Payne…that is Constant Payne to some…but to my mates I’m Con…or am I?

And riddle my parable, I’m a winner and I’m a sinner who’s to become the dogs dinner!

Am I confusing you?

Don’t worry about it, I confuse myself sometimes…but it all makes sense in the end and that’s a promise.

But if you’re into discovering what there is to discover, just pin your lugs back ’cause my story is coming up.

I was a nicotine addict and a nightly imbiber of the falling down liquid. When my health began to suffer as a result of these habits, or, was it the habits of certain occupants of this sick world that sent my health into freefall? Anyway, I fell into an out of surgery, madcap, often farcical, cycling come therapy relationship with my doctor, the dedicated Dr. McGivitup.

For my part, it’s all down to that God geezer…the omnipresent prankster who loves a good giggle at my mere mortal expense!

As I will reveal He has been pulling my strings for the entirety of my life…stomping His bloody great foot of fate at will…the mysterious old git drove me to the edge of insanity many times!

Then one day He revealed Himself to me good proper…told me I was His chosen one, put on earth to save the world!

Then He fecked off and left me reeling!

He went into retirement…just like that! And not a bloody word from Him since…well apart from when He puts in a brief appearance, just shows up to fire a well aimed thunder-bolt in my general direction!

And there in lay my problem.

While Gawd Awe bloody Mighty legged it…to Lord it over another planet…one that isn’t such a pain in His Almighty arse as this one is…He left me with an inheritance that resembled damnation alley!

Oh, don’t get me wrong…the Mighty One did arm me with the solution to solving this problem…but who’d listen?

Not one living solitary fecking soul! That’s who!

Yeah okay, I tend to rant and rave about heaven and hell and the meaning of life and the day of judgement and such stuff…I mean, I even know where the son of perdition hangs out!

But was I thanked for attempting to impart my vast knowledge and wisdom?

Was I bollocks!

All I got was…’you need your marbles feeling you do!’ Or, ‘go take a long walk off a short pier you mad cow!’ Or, ‘come back when you’ve got more sense…like sometime never!’

‘Is it cause I is a woman?’ I beseeched…I’d been watching Ali G…

…’cause in Is Mighty eyes all are equal…that is why E incarnated me to be a wicked woman see…to prove it.’

‘No…it’s because your a fecking headcase…now remove yourself from my vision before I plant you!’

There was no need for that!

‘And I might plant you one day pal…but not in the physical sense cause I is a pacifist…but to give you a clue…I’m thinking tree? And one day in the future kids, you’ll discover a tree that bears the facial features of the Iron Maiden, you know, The Magog Hag…because that’s where I’ll be sending her soul to reside…with the awareness of a human for her sins…but more of that later…

And thus it continued.

A world set on self destruct…the four riders of the apocalypse had spread their wings and were flying unabated. Wars, famines, pestilence and death ran rampant over an already ravaged little earth. Me with the answers to solve it…yet not one living git would take me seriously!

I was in total and abject despair!

Then along came the thunder-bolt that lead me to McGivitup.

And although I initially resented the docs intrusion into my life, I quickly discovered his best mate…an eminent brain surgeon no less…a real trail blazer in his field, was obsessed with the paranormal, to the degree that he was living in anticipation of the saviour coming on the clouds!

He’d seen the signs man!

But clouds…airwaves…where’s the difference?

Lost you again?

Well I happen to know that my life story is written, not only in THE book, but also in the songs of the stars. The stars who have been working on a unconscious spiritual level, sending God given lyrics, that tell my story, through the ether, to the ears of those who dwell on earth. The Almighty Ones grand finale will come about when they get the wake up call.

My problem however, lay in convincing McGivitup that my story was for real, without getting myself sectioned!

And if you had any idea of what a drug fuelled, FLESH SINNING, (as in thigh), alcohol ridden past I had to reveal, then you might better understand my predicament!

(Revelation 19 v 15 16 And out of his mouth proceedeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod of iron: and he treadeth the winepress of the fierceness of the wrath of Almighty God. And he hath on his GARMENT (life work) and on his THIGH a name written, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords.)

So is this me coming in on my ass?

I tell you folks, it’s been one epic fecking journey!

Especially as McGivitup, being a man of science, didn’t exactly make life easy. He nit-picked at every turn. In fact, there were moments where I distinctly felt as if he was about to bundle me off into psychiatric care! Until that is…the final chapter of my story…he was so stunned as the enormity of it all sank in, that he careered off course at high speed straight into a tree! I thought I was going to have to give him the kiss of life! When he finally came round he peered at the sky as if he expected the omnipresent One Himself to descend!

Still, once the docs mate got wind of my story he went public…then the shit hit the fan BIG TIME!

I was swamped by the worlds press…who tried to rip me apart because of all the drink and drug fuelled flesh sinning I’d done! But, it caused quite a stir…the real people saw the light…then all the despotic leaders the world over, up to and including Bush and Blair, found themselves to be in a very tricky situation as they discovered that all their blasphemy against God…as in using Gods name to carry out the foulest of deeds…had robbed them of their place in Gods book of eternal life…it was the other place they were headed.

It was about then that the children of earth rose up and gave it to these dead men walking loud and clear…they were cast into the living pit of hell…they became the laughing stock of the entire planet…laughed off the powerful pedestals that had sustained their greed begotten existences.

(James 5 v 1-6 Go to now, ye rich, weep and howl for your miseries that are coming upon you. Your riches are corrupted, and your garments are moth eaten. Your gold and your silver are rusted; and their rust shall be for a testimony against you, and shall eat your flesh as fire. Ye have laid up your treasure in the last days. Behold, the hire of the labourers who mowed your fields, which is of you kept back by fraud, crieth out: and the cries of them that reaped have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. Ye have lived delicately on the earth, and taken your pleasure; ye have nourished your hearts in a day of slaughter. Ye have condemned, ye have killed the righteous one; he doth not resist thee. Be patient therefore, brethren, until the coming of the Lord.)

And then our lovely little planet was set on a healing course…a love bug began to run rampant…as greed, corruption, organized religions and all such nonsense, were cast into the realms of history. Our mother earth was restored to the paradise God always intended her to be.

And it all taught the children of earth to fear, not God…but their own actions.

So children of mother earth, now that we are gathered, I’d like to take you on the most brilliant, awe inspiring, magical mystery tour this old world is ever likely to see.

So crew, just fasten your seat belts and prepare for take off because we are going to be travelling faster than the speed of light…or at least it will appear so on reflection! It’ll be, out with the old and in with the new. Save what’s worth saving and damn the rest!

Oh yeah, while I think about it. Mr. Randi, about that ten thousand smackeroo’s your offering to anyone who can prove they have paranormal powers? Well me, I’ve got nothing to prove, but if you would care to view the world with new eyes and take another listen, then I’m sure you will get this incredible urge to get that big fat check posted to Action Aid sharpish like!

And that David Icke eh? Reckons there are going to be GREAT changes in the world over the next while! What a seer of visions man! Spot on David my old son…but how many times do I have to tell you, the earth only moves for sinners! Still, cheers for being a snow plough for the silly cow! Now, where’s my cake?

However, to some I am the God of Hell Fire…
and I bring you…

FIRE!

Revelation. Chapter 1 v 18.
I am he that liveth, and was dead; and behold, I am alive for ever more, A-men;
and I have the keys of HELL and DEATH.

You see some glutton for punishment sucker with a git weirdo save the world concept died
on a cross to save sinners NOT the earth and people destroying plebs.

When Jah Jah rise they gonna feel the rod. They can’t stop the I and I is full of Ire but it’s all gonna be Irie…

http://www.channel5.com/shows/the-last-days-of/episodes/jesus

So come on sinners let’s put the rev in the revolution and head towards world war free…

Robin Hood…Robin Hood…

“Every body, stay calm, it’s just the end of the world.” So sings the other one who landed
on earth beneath the shadow of the Abbey, the other God of Hell Fire Arthur Brown.
But the mystical machine gun is ready to fire…

I of the I and I will ‘chase the crazy bump heads out of town and take on
Babylon them evil boys pound for pound’.

We’re rising and rising…

Let’s get loud, loud, loud…

One thing ’bout music. When it hits you feel no pain…yeah? 😉
It’s bigger than hip hop…

Give a little bit…

We’re not going to sit in silence, we’re not going to live with fear…we are the voices.

So who am I?

The Judgement Day Revelations. Chapter Twelve.

Chapter Twelve.

So what was the outcome of my revelations?

Well, Dave Rolence, the docs mate, the eminent brain surgeon, had been busy scribbling away, incorporating my story with his own findings concerning the heavenly mystery of the end of the age. Such stuff as, S. Luke. Ch 21 v 10. Nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. Acts Ch 2 v 20. The sun shall be turned into darkness, And the moon into blood, Before the day of the Lord come, That great and notable day. blah de blah. Being a world famous medical man, he had no trouble getting himself into the media spotlight. And that was when everything went ape shit.

I was bombarded by the worlds media machine, to whom I passed on Gods final warning, which they spread to the four corners. You know the stuff…this is the end of the age as has been long prophesied in many different forms down the long reaches of time…Hopi, Mayan, Lakota to name but a few. And just to prove the end of the war mongering, wicked, unjustified world is nigh…here I am, wrapped in the wondrous, awesome, mystery of Gods making, come to usher in the new world. The new world where peace and love shall shine brightly. The new world where people work together for the common good of all. The new world which restores our sad old mother earth to her former glory. The new world where words like greed and corruption, murder and misery are just words that belong to that grossly wicked old worlds history.

But, what else happens at the end of the age? The good go to eternal life, the wicked to eternal death. Although it’s not quite as clear cut as that. Imagine if you will a circle. All the pure souls reside at the top of the circle, while the grossly evil ones are at the very bottom. The rest are in between. Now imagine the equator region of the circle, that’s the cut off point for human reincarnation, go below the equator and your life force becomes another aspect of our living planet, be it animal, plant or whatever…but, dependent of actions on earth, the equator region will see a lot of coming and going as soul debts are paid and souls are given another chance at human life. It was time to sort the wheat from the chaff!

Aeroplanes and private earth polluting cars were taxed into oblivion and hemp became the fuel of the world. Because not only is it written in the book, it’s also sung about.

The vast business of transporting food stuff from one end of the globe to the other was brought back down to earth as locally sourced produce came to the fore. All the robbing multi-nationals and banks etcetera started ploughing the billions upon billions they’d thieved off the backs of the populace back into renewable energy sources, the ones who refused discovered themselves turned to dust. All the evil task masters who employed dirt cheap third world child labour to fill their filthy coffers found themselves on the streets as down and outs as the populace wised up to the horrific conditions these children had been expected to work under, the long hours, the filthy often toxic states of existence that was the only way their families could survive the dire poverty in which they were forced to live. The health of these children was ruined to line the pockets of heartless profiteers who knew exactly what they were doing. They didn’t care that they were exploiting innocent children for their own gain, they believed they had no one to answer too but themselves. Well weren’t they shocked? Because unlike the churches and the man manipulated religions would have you believe, you do not simply have to sign up to them to have your wicked acts absolved, it’s not as simple as that. If you have committed an evil deed, the natural law of the universe will demand you pay for it at some point. No one can avoid the natural law, not even me, it will always catch up with you in the end and issue justice.

The children were taught all the deeper workings of the spirit…like how it takes allsorts to make the world tick, from bin men to Kings, from doctors and nurses to footballers and songsters, from farmers to artists, but whatever one does in life, all are equal, the world needs a whole variety of skills and whatever yours happens to be, it will be important…And all those kids that aspired to be the next best footballer or the next best superstar or whatever, were taught truthfully that if they did their best and lived a good and productive life, accepting with good grace any soul debts that might have to be paid, then the next time round they will be free to choose what form their next incarnation will take…although be careful what you wish for kids, some things are not all they’re cracked up to be! But you know when someone you love dearly passes over to the other side, then shortly afterwards a pet or some wild creature makes its presence felt in your life? It’s your loved one filling time while staying close to you! Imagine it…soaring the skies as a bird, or being a pampered pet while you pass time waiting for your friends before you begin planning future incarnations all over again! And that is the fate of the saved. The rest will, before they pop their earthly clogs this time round, begin to take on the appearance of what they are to become…some gave the impression they were ‘branching out!’ Others came across as slightly quackers! Yet others never stopped bleating. Blah.

Still, I fleeced Fleet Street and made shed loads of money out of them and the rest of the worlds press. I gave most of it away to go towards ensuring that every living person had access to clean water, while tooling them up, not as our governments had done in the past, with weapons to kill each other but, with equipment that aided them to work the land so that they could feed themselves. They were also tooled up with knowledge of how best to work with nature, not against it. As Mini Me had once pointed out. What’s the difference between humans and animals? Animals adapt to their surroundings, while humans adapt their surroundings to suit them! We need to begin working alongside nature again, not abuse it for fleeting profit. Nature needs a helping hand to regain all that has been destroyed by the merchants of greed. And once my own family needs had been catered for, I put the fortune my story amassed into working to rebuild woods and forests and all kind of things that helped mother nature thrive again.

I started something of a trend, it became cool for the earth bound stars to give away trucks full of money to spread around the poorer parts of the globe, either that or they were scared shitless in case I might turn them into a frog or some such if they didn’t.. because they knew it was within my power to do so if I so desired! The amounts of money some had squandered while children died horrific deaths for want of a little food in their bellies…some were desperate to make amends before they gave up their ghosts to the eternal and me!

However, it wasn’t long before the entire globe got into doing their own individual bits to save our precious little mother earth. Things did get worse before they started to get better as regarded the weather and natural, or is that man provoked, natural disasters? Because you can’t change such a horrific mess, that years of abject abuse has wrought, overnight. But trees got planted in their billions and billions, as the populace woke up to the fact that trees are the magical ingredient the planet needs in order to thrive. Not only is the wood they offer carbon neutral for energy purposes, but when planted around mountains and built up areas, they act as a cooling system, so combating global warming. They sustain our lives and our planet in a thousand and one practical ways. Trees, as southern England discovered, enhance rainfall by cooling the land and slowing wind evaporation, by their very nature they attracted rainfall. They are the lungs of the earth drawing in carbon dioxide from the air and releasing oxygen. They provide a million and one fruits, spices and medicines…where do you suppose chocolate comes from? They re-fertilise the land with their leaf fall every season. As the world woke up to the vital importance of trees to our planet they became things of worship, and rightly so. We began to breathe real, fresh, beautifully scented air again.

Horses and pushbikes made an incredible comeback as private cars were sent to the scrap heap to be recycled into caravan like static homes, for those who needed them, like the thousands of homeless who had previously and shamefully been brushed under the carpet by those in power. The victims of natural disasters also benefited from the temporary homes, as did the refugees who were created by the war mongers!
The populace woke up to the fact that the world had survived for millions of years without the need for chemicals and pesticides and such like. They realised that everything had begun to go ape shit with the coming of the industrial revolution and started to oust all the nasties in favour of the natural.

On a personal level, I was invited to take part in ‘I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here’. Only I had to change things around a bit didn’t I. I put a stop to all those totally shit impractical challenges, in favour of ones that fit in with the real world, challenges that taught the watchers a thing or two about genuine survival, sort of pioneer style. Naturally I got to chose who went in with me. My family first and foremost obviously, I wanted to see them perform menial tasks, not something I’ve witnessed very often! Johnny Depp for Mini Me, because she is actually a cracking little worker, so I called in a star for my beautiful star girl. Although I did insist he spent the whole episode dressed like his alter ego Jack Sparrow. And that was when I began cursing Him upstairs again. It just wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t I have come across this bit of top totty when I was in the sins of the flesh phase of my life? He could have swashed my buckle any day! Then I invited Eminem, primarily for Jah, although I don’t know why, if you saw the state of his bedroom! It’s just as well he is one of the nicest, kindest, most sensible, lovable teenagers you could ever wish to meet…did I mention he’s a cheeky little git as well? But yeah, by the end of it I’d adopted Eminem as my own because I’ve loved him for years. I also made sure Johnny Lydon was dragged back in again kicking and screaming, just because The Top Dog and I like him. We even got the fat lad Vegas to come, although we had to promise vast quantities of alcohol. But, while we were in there, you’ll never guess what challenge the bastards set for me? They only told me I had to go into a herd, a whole fucking herd, of cattle, bull included, to milk a cow! Needless to say no one ate that night…I told them not to worry though, a bit of fasting is good for the soul! It wasn’t very good for mine however, when they all decided they were going to go cannibal…I had to stay awake all night, they vowed the minute I shut my eyes I’d be on the menu!

Then I got invited to take part in Strictly Come Dancing. Now when that show is on, I’m a total addict. I love dancing. But while your merely a viewer, you’re always living in expectation of one of the competitors going flat on their arses and sliding ungainly across the floor with legs akimbo. Well okay, maybe that’s only me! But you know what they say about being careful what you think? Well be ultra careful. I took up the challenge even though all that choreography does my head in, I prefer doing my own thing, going where the music takes me, naturally. So guess who went sliding across the floor on her arse in front of millions with legs akimbo?

And as for me and my nicotine habit, that old final temptation. After giving up innumerable times, I’d go back for a quick binge when the old brain cells refused to function. My brain frequently went into meltdown without its nicotine hit, causing me to panic like fuck as I visualised the mad bastard sons and daughters of Satan finally blowing our beautiful little planet earth to smithereens before I made my presence felt. Still, once I’d conquered the mountain that had been mine to climb and reached my destination, I gave up once and for all time…well in this incarnation anyway! Instead I became a serious passive smoker. I was often to be found perched on the shoulder of some unsuspecting smoker inhaling deeply!

Back in the world, the Grim Reaper came into his own. Because whereas the good people on earth are met on their passing into spirit by their loved ones that have gone before. The wicked, those who put their faith in gold, those who rode rough shod over the earth and its peoples to fill their own filthy coffers, the murderers, all who refused to turn their backs on their evil and wicked ways, were met on their passing by the Grim Reaper and his sickle. His sickle being the instrument that severed their umbilical cord that had once been their attachment to The Most High once and for all time. Many squirmed and screamed their horror in the streets before they were wrenched out of their bodies by Grim to be sent to suffer eternal damnation in the pits of hell! But not before the good people on earth gave them sever grief by pointing at them and hissing them off the streets like the snakes in the grass they are. They also discovered that the money they had hoarded wasn’t edible.

As for the massive changes that were wrought as regarded building a fair for all system. It was a case of saving what was worth saving and damning the rest. But the populace were sensible enough to do that in the controlled manner I taught them. They chose the methodology that ensured the needy didn’t come to harm. And that wise old man Tony Benn’s words were finally heeded when the nations worked together to dismantle every last nuclear plant.

Then one day I just danced myself right out of my body. It wasn’t until the music stopped that I realised what had happened. And if the wicked who were left on earth thought it was a time to rejoice because the source of their torment had departed…they were wrong…they were very wrong…if they thought I was dangerous on earth, it was as nothing to what I became in spirit! I haunted them, I got into their heads, right in, I drove them insane. Once I was flying free in my natural home, one that has no restrictions, at least no restrictions for someone as perfect as me, it’s mental, you can be in a million places at once…its awesome…and me and my pals, the odd few who had achieved the highest of high, had a ball giving hell to the hellish!

But finally children of earth, I beseech you…and this is really important. Just say NO to organized religion! Not only does it fuck with your head…it ruins lives! Just take a look down the long reaches of time to witness the sickening horrors that have been inflicted on innocent lives through the zealous madness of those who were embroiled in organized religion. Or, more to the point, those who used organized religion for their own devious ends!

I am here to declare that God does not need praise…He knows how good He is! The only thing that God asks of you is that you live in peace with one another, do your best in life, be happy, follow your own path and restore and respect His beloved planet earth.

Amen.

Yeah okay, maybe the events described in this tale didn’t occur in the time structure specified! I drew on artistic licence okay? But rest assured, The Book WILL be fulfilled…so I’d be righting wrongs and doing the correct thing rapid like if I were you workers of evil because the central message of this story is real, very real.

Finally, one day I opened my front door to be met by the worlds press. I had a pint wine glass full of the red stuff in one hand and a foot long dunston in the other. “Look lads an’ lasses…I’m down to one a day,” I slurred before stating, “just call me ‘the’ martyr. I’m the last suicide bomber whose long drawn out, yet exquisitly ‘painful?’ demise shall leave shrapnel ricocheting around the planet forever more.”  🙂

 

The Judgement Day Revelations. Chapter 11.

Chapter 11.

‘Time To Wake Up’.
Crazy Knowledge by Dreadzone.

McGivitup was back from his travels, so where else would I be but the waiting room of the surgery!
A fair bit had happened during his absence and I was all of a blather, anticipating a bollocking!
My name was called and I made my way to his consulting room. On entering I noted that he looked worn out and drawn. I couldn’t work out whether he was just totally knackered or troubled in some way.
“Did you have a good trip?” I asked, hopeful of being enlightened to his state of mind.
He eyed me wearily. “I’d rather not talk about it if you don’t mind.”
“Ah, the old jet lag kicking in is it?” I grinned at him, attempting to lighten him up for my news, while accepting that he’d open up when he was ready.
“Something like that.” He sighed, appearing deeply troubled. He was starting to worry me. “So what can I do for you?” He asked distractedly.
I sat back folding my arms and got down to the business at hand while preparing myself for the onslaught I was sure would follow. “I’ll come straight to the point doc, I’ve stopped taking the Indoramin.” I issued a sigh of relief now that was out in the open.
He bowed his head, rubbing his forehead and his temples with his hand, trying not to look pissed off with his difficult patient. “Why this time might I ask?” He looked at me as if I’d presented him with a problem he could well do without.
“Well,” I blundered, “I know I was only taking them for a short while, but my heart started doing the weirdest things. Every time I laid down to sleep it felt as if it was doing aerobics and beating all erratic like…it got so I was being kept awake just waiting for the next rumble, hoping it wasn’t going to be the last!” I was gesticulating wildly to stress my point, “and then there was the confusion, I tell you doc…I’m daft enough without your mind altering drugs tipping me over the edge!” He looked mildly irritated at my choice of words. I blustered on regardless, keen that he should comprehend my reasoning. “I mean, one day I stood for an hour happily lining cake tins with grease proof paper, in preparation for baking the many cakes I make for family and friends at Christmas. I try to get them all baked and put in the freezer, then in the run up to Christmas I only have them to decorate. Only it wasn’t until I’d finished that I realised I’d given them the full double sided and bottom lining that is required for fruit cakes, when all I needed was a single bottom lining for sponge cakes! Oh boy was I pissed off!”
I spied a glimmer of amusement cross his face.
I continued with my epic of disasters. “Then another time I went to meet The Top Dog from work…which as you know, I do every day. Only this time, instead of turning left at the end of the snicket as usual, I turned right onto the dog walking route… I walked a mile and a bleedin’ half before I realised I was going in the wrong direction!”
The doc laughed out loud. I’d managed to cheer him up. I looked at him squarely, my eyes twinkling, “and I could go on because it was an eventful few days before I clicked it was the pills sending me ga-ga!”
McGivitup was beginning to relaxe a little, but he still looked tired and drawn.
I grinned at him broadly, “but I’ve been doing my homework,” I said as I extracted two large books out of my bag, “I come armed and dangerous.”
He sat up and lent in with interest as I leafed through the books in order to show him the passages that were revelent to my condition and how it can be controlled by alternative remedies.
“Since I stopped taking the Indoramin, I’ve been following this regime,” I informed him, as he snatched the books off me and began flicking through the pages, “two sticks of celery, three raw cloves of garlic, walnuts, lots of fruit and vegetables…but I did that anyway, plus supplement capsules of hawthorn, Co enzym Q 10, grapeseed extract and omega three daily.” I beamed at him, feeling quite proud of my efforts.
McGivitup meanwhile was still studying one of my books, he was consumed, reading one passage, then flicking through and concentrating on another. Finally he snapped it shut and raised his head looking at me angrily, “anyone who claims that these alternatives will lower blood pressure without the aid of coventional medicines needs suing! If you carry on with this regime without the aid of conventional drugs, then have a heart attack or a stroke it’ll be their fault! They will need suing!” He didn’t even pause for breath as he searched for the credits, “just who is responsible for advocating this nonsense?” He broke from his search to look me irately in the eye, “because that’s what it is, nonsense! I won’t suggest that these remedies don’t help the condition, every little sensible change helps…but to suggest that you can throw away your blood pressure tablets is tantamount to handing out a death sentence…whoever it is needs suing!”
I was feeling as if I was on the receiving end of a pent up anger that had little or nothing to do with me, as he returned to his scrutinising. Suddenly he was triumphant. “There you go…ah, yes…Doctor McGivitup.”
I could hardly keep a straight face…I had no idea that the advocate of my new natural approach, carried the same name as my conventional doctor.
Meanwhile McGivitup rumbled on, “if you continue with this madness and it all goes horribly wrong, as I predict it will…sue him!”
He calmed down a little as I battled to maintain my compossure and not show the slightest hint of the giggles I was battling to suppress…which was bloody hard work I might add.
“When did you stop taking the Indoramin?” He demanded angrily.
“About a week ago,” I lied…why did I lie? I don’t know, it just came out! I think it was because he was so full of ire at the time that I didn’t want to infuriate him further by admitting the truth.
“Okay, let’s take your blood pressure.” He said as he moved in to wrap the pressure band around my upper left arm.
He pushed the button and we sat in silence as the machine did its business.
I swear he tried to keep his face neuteral and not look defeated as he reported, “well your blood pressure is significantly lower than I would have expected it to be. In fact, it’s normal.”
He quickly regained his temporary lapse into disbelief and stated confidently, “but it’ll be the Indoramin still in your system, it has only been a week after all. It’s only a matter of time before it creeps up again.”
Bugger, bollocks, brain storming barnacles! Why did I have to fib? Why couldn’t I admit it was over three weeks since I’d stopped taking them… fairly soon after he had left for Africa in fact! And he hadn’t taken into account the fact that alcohol was no longer a part of the equation…but to be fair, I hadn’t told him. He probably thought I’d stopped taking his bloody drugs so that I could hit the bottle again! Anyway, I ended up walking out of that surgery with yet another prescription for yet another pharmaceutical drug, with his threat to strike me off if I didn’t follow his advice to the letter still ringing in my ears as I made my way home. I sincerely hoped his mood would be improved when we went for our next bike ride, which he’d booked for three days hense.
And although he hadn’t said anything to me, I later discovered, from his wife, that his mood had been due to the fact that they had witnessed and attempted to repair absolutely horrifying injuries that human had inflicted upon human while they had been away. It grieved him badly that mankind could consume itself with such cruel acts of wickedness against its own fellow men, women and children. So who could blame him for being angry? Certainly not me. It was just such horrors that had caused me endless gut wrenching heartache each and every countless time I failed in my quest, leaving me totally and absolutely bereft because I knew I had what it took to stop this mindless greed orientated slaughter that was spreading over the planet like wildfire as one blood thirsty, power hungry, gluttonous, sick psychopath after another declared war on his fellow men.
Still, I was about to give the doc a renewed sense of hope in the future, only I needed to do some preparation first, it was time to get busy.
McGivitup had managed to free up a full day to himself. Probably designed to help oust the recent abominations he had witnessed from his memory, or at least bury them beneath something good. He’d asked if a long haul bike ride was okay with me? It couldn’t have worked out better had I planned it myself. It was going to be the final episode of my revelations, only it was going to take time, and now we had it.
We met at the cricket field at nine a.m., and although we were now into November, the weather was un-naturally mild. But we had taken extra clothing along with our packed lunches, just in case.
“So do you fancy a ride to Paradise?” I asked him, from my bike that now sported two mini speakers hanging from each end of my handle bars and a walkman strapped to the middle.
“If only.” He sighed, noting the addition to my riding kit but making no comment, obviously still depressed from the living nightmare he had recently departed from. He looked more tired and drawn than he had done when I last saw him, he obviously hadn’t been sleeping well since his return from Africa.
Paradise was about an hour and a halfs hard riding away, but it was aptly named, the unadulterated beauty, wildness and remoteness of the place made it a wilderness that healed the soul. I also thought it was an apt location for my final therapy session. I knew we would both emerge from it different people.
We peddled in silence along the disused railway track until we reached the road that crossed through it. We turned left onto the road and then right at the junction. About a mile along the single lane country road we came to a farm on the left. I signalled to McGivitup that we were turning off. The farm had a very well maintained tractor track going through it and out the other side, wending its way into beautiful autumnal woodland. We followed the track down a very steep hill, lined on both sides by dense woodland, half way up the hill on the other side, there was a stile leading into the woods.
“This is where we get off and push.” I said to the doc.
He was looking around in wide eyed wonder.
“Constantine, this place is enchanting, however did you know it was here? It’s not sign-posted.”
I grinned as I heaved my bike over the stile. “Oh, I ‘ve been known to be taken with an adventurous wanderlust in my time…there’s not a lot of this valley that I’ve not explored.”
He hoisted his bike over the stile.
I turned to him and whispered, “if we go very quietly down this path, we may be lucky enough to see some wildlife.”
We walked as softly as we could down the narrow woodland path, going deeper and deeper into the valley within a valley. Our stealth was rewarded, first by spotting a pair of squirrels frolicking in a tree, then a fox crossed the path a few yards in front of us, scuttling away swiftly when he sensed our presence, leaving a musky, pungent odour in his wake. Stoats, voles and wood mice scurried across our path several times, as if oblivious to our proximity. Then, as we approached the stream at the bottom of the gully, a deer was taking a drink. I stood on a twig and as it snapped the startled deer bolted for the shelter of the dense woodland. The bolting deer triggered a family of herons, which we hadn’t previously noticed, to take flight. It was awesome heartwarming stuff.
“So much beauty, yet so much pain.” The doc sighed wistfully, as he breathed in the calmness of our surroundings, the tinkling water running down the pebble and rock strewn brook, like Gods own music to our ears, birds calling each other, adding to the symphony of mother natures healing rhythms.
We stopped for a while, on an old fashioned bridge that crossed the stream, leaning over to watch the babbling brook flow below us, each lost in our own contemplative silence.
“You wouldn’t believe the horrifying cruelty that is going on as we speak, just an aeroplane flight away.” McGivitup finally said, his face etched with pain. “Here we are in this beautiful peaceful oasis, while on the other side of the world men, women and children are dying in their thousands, ravaged by aids. Families torn apart by the sickening disease. Tiny beautiful children and babies left orphaned in a cruel world with barely a soul to turn to.” He looked me in the eye, his face furrowed with grief. “Don’t get me wrong,” he continued, “there are some magnificent people out there who are doing their utmost to improve life for those who are cast adrift…mostly women I might add,” he stared into the middle distance, his face portraying the anguished wretchedness he was feeling, “but there aren’t enough of them. So many children are abandoned to fend for themselves, lost and alone in a world of savagery and brutality.” He looked me in the eye, his brimming with unshed tears. ” It’s heart breaking Constantine.”
I could feel tears of my own welling up as I shared his pain and the pain of all the suffering souls on earth. I had been in this place so many times before, weeping for the innocent victims of the unrelenting barbaric actions of greedy, power obsessed warlords, who run around waving their guns and machetes at will, sadistically and brutally leaving blood baths in their wake, while they kidnap innocent children and force them to become killers!
“The stories we heard and the resulting injuries we treated,” he continued as if he had read my mind, “of whole villages being massacred by marauding gangs of lawless thugs out to maim, murder, rob and rape…little girls barely out of babyhood raped, little boys sodomized…” I winced, “you wouldn’t believe the bestiality of those people…such repulsive wickedness it defies belief! It’s hard to believe there are so many evil people in the world.” The doc sighed wearily.
“Not for much longer.” I eyed him seriously.
He cast me a puzzled look.
“Time is about to be called on all the depraved, bestial, barbaric sons of Satan the world over!” I winked at him with eyes that felt as if they were exuding fire.
We moved on, over the other side of the bridge and followed the path up the other side, which was much steeper than our descent had been. Huffing and puffing we struggled our way up through the woods, shafts of light from the sun above filtered through the dense foliage…and although we were well into autumn, the mild weather and the lack of heavy winds kept the beautifully coloured leaves on the trees. There was a sprinkling at ground level that we crunched through, but not nearly as many as there ought to have been. We eventually emerged from the woods into a pretty little glade, where the grass was long and lush. Pushing our bikes was hard work but once through the glade we came to a firmer path in a field that skirted more woodland. And thus we carried on through more fields, skirting around the outer side of one that was full of beasts, until we reached the main road with taffic hurtling past from both directions. This was the only down side to our outing, we needed to travel this road for about half a mile until a path on the other side took us to Paradise. On reaching this path, we climbed a stile into a field, two fields and another stile later, there we were, in Paradise. McGivitup marvelled as we raced down a rough hewn track, deeper and deeper into the wilderness, all noise from the thundering traffic gone as if by magic, the only sound to be heard was the sporadic call of a curlew. We rode for about a mile, passing brooks, marshes, ponds, groves of trees, high land and low land. We stopped to catch our breath, the doc slowly turned three hundred and sixty degrees, absorbing the views.
“This is amazing,” he enthused, “not one sign of human habitation to be seen…not a road, not a building…nothing.”
“Why do you think it’s called Paradise?” I smiled.
I noticed a small waterfall a little way ahead of us, the surrounding bank of the stream into which it fell looked perfect for a picnic, a tiny utopia of soft bouncy grass, flanked with bushes. We headed for it, then laid our weary bodies down to rest for a while. It wasn’t long before I became fidgety, we had a lot to get through and I was eager to get started. However, the doc seemed to be disinclined to rouse from his state of meditation, so I made myself busy setting out the picnic and pouring us hot drinks from the flasks. The smell of the docs prefered coffee, which I wafted under his nose, had the desired effect of luring him out of his reverie.
Feeling replenished after sandwiches and drinks, McGivitup turned on the dictaphone and we were away, although he would need to renew the tape several times for this session.
“So, where were we?” The doc asked, as he searched his mind for the relevent information. “Ah yes,” he answered himself, “you’d ended the relationship with Isaac…so what happened next?”
“Well like I said, we were still pals…but a distance had been established. And at that point in time I was extremely busy what with our move into temporary accommodation and the of baking of and then icing two wedding cakes. It seemed as if everything happened at once, Gilbert and Maggie’s wedding, the big move. And then no sooner were we established in our temporary home than along came the two children who were to be in my care for several weeks while their folk singing parents toured America. Life was hectic keeping four kids and what turned out to be a super sensitive dog occupied, especially as I’d somehow managed to allow myself to be ‘on call’ to my former boss at the big house…he was calling me fairly often. I was run ragged, but I was still managing to stay up half the night scribbling notes for my mission to save the world from the greedy, the murderous and the corrupt. The ideas were flowing thick and fast. I’d decided to incorporate my giving up smoking, which I’d tentatively attempted but not achieved. My thoughts had been increasingly focussing on my mother. She had, after being a heavy smoker for most of her life, given up. She would stress to me that if she could do it, anyone could. I instinctively felt that she had achieved this fete on an unconscious spiritual level, as a means of guiding me on this arduous path that would be mine to follow. I just ‘knew’ that her kicking the habit had been preordained in spirit for my benefit. So, I intended using her selfless gift to me as a way of encouraging all the kids who have, for whatever reason, become reliant on drink or drugs as a means of forgetting…kind of, come on kids we’re going to build a new world, a world that includes you, a world that needs you, a real justified world where those that are wrecking our mother earth and your lives for profit are brought to book. So come on folks, join me in freeing yourself from your addiction and then use the inevitable anger the giving up process ensues, constructively, by shouting it to those who run our world, loudly, that enough is enough, demand that the mess is cleaned up and insist that the system is gone through with a fine tooth comb until every last unfairness has been ousted. Save what’s worth saving and damn the rest. Demand that every last penny of public money is accounted for and justly distributed for the good of all, not just the nameless, faceless, feckless, thieving bureaucrats who line their own pockets at the expense of us all.” I calmed my arms that had developed a flailing life of their own to accompany my rant and smiled. “But, they were halcyon days back then, we were all living on the edge of poverty… except for Isaac who was raking it in. But we had rooves over our heads, clothes on our backs, food in our bellies and most importantly, we were happy, joyful even…who could have asked for more?” I beseeched him. “And it was at that point I found myself becoming increasingly excited…I just ‘knew’ instinctively that my man was close. As I travelled through all the mundane tasks that were mine to perform I would be in a world of my own, day dreaming, imagining what he would be like. I already ‘knew’ he would play a mean guitar. Gilbert always accused me of being a dreamer,” I raised my eyebrows scornfully, “of not living in the real world. Won’t he just want to eat his words when he sees where it’s got me?” I nodded meaningfully at McGivitup. “Still, as for my man, I was sure he would be as strong, if not stronger than me…” I glanced at the doc, “by that point in my life, I realised I was quite a formidable power to be reckoned with, I have no fear of standing up for what I believed in, I refuse to be bullied into submission.”
“I think I’ve already worked that one out for myself!” The doc stated ruefully.
“But,” I continued, “it was during that climate that I called to visit Gilbert and Maggie to catch up on how the kids were doing at their end. I entered the scene to be met by the many familiar faces who were crammed into their small living room.” I smiled at the doc as my eyes lit up, “only one of the faces wasn’t familiar. It was familiar-ish. He looked just like Mr Prefect. Not quite as tall as Mr. Prefect and not as bulky. He had the sort of physique I found extremely attractive in a man, positively cuddly. And where as Mr Prefect was completely bald, this man was bald on top but had enough hair round the edges to form a pig tail. He was absolutely gorgeous. Gilbert introduced us, stressing that I was his ex-wife. The man leapt up grinning from ear to ear with eyes twinkling mischievously as he took my hand and kissed my cheek saying, ‘it’s nice to meet you Constantine…Gilbert’s ex-wife.’ After that my path frequently crossed with this superb specimen of flirtatious manhood. We kept bumping into each other, we seemed to gravitate towards each other. We quickly discovered we had a whole lot in common, especially friends and acquaintances. He knew and had hung out with most of the people I’d been close to throughout my life, I was amazed we’d never met before. And he was Mr Prefect’s cousin. It wasn’t long before he began visiting me at the portakabin. He was impressed when he found Hawkwind among my music collection, he’s a huge fan of theirs, as am I. And astonishingly, he already knew the kids. They had gone to Glastonbury festival a few years before with Gilbert and Maggie, he had been among the crowd that had gone along with them. Events were beginning to look as if they were fated and I was building to such a state of euphoria you just wouldn’t believe. I observed that he was kind hearted, friendly and helpful to all, even strangers. He was witty, articulate and intelligent. Well read and on my wavelength as regarded world affairs, he had a vast knowledge of world history. And we both had a deep and abiding love of music, he being a player of the guitar! Then when it was just a matter of days before Christmas when our house was ready to move back into. The Top Dog, as I began to think of him, was a wonder to behold, as all the furniture, crates full of books, the bulk of my tapes, albums and the masses of other stuff that had been put into storage descended, he made himself useful laying carpets, hanging curtains, arranging and assembling furnishings, unloading crates and taking over in the kitchen department, showing off his cooking skills, which are the best…” I grinned at the doc and pretended thoughtful, “although in those days I seem to recall he cleared up after himself!”
“Does he not do that anymore then?” The doc picked up on my tease.
“Your joking! He’s used to having a retinue of washers up picking up after him these days…it tends to accidentally on purpose slip his mind that they’re not on call when he’s at home! I often say to him, ‘why use ten pans when you can use one?”
The doc laughed.
“But yeah, he was just like the men from my own family, he just did what needed to be done without discrimination. There was none of the mans work, woman’s work nonsense with him.. He was a wonder to behold, he just got on with the jobs to hand and as we worked together the sparks were beginning to fly and not only in the romantic department…it was beginning to dawn on me that this God thing, this destined journey I was convinced I’d been travelling for so long, wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t just a figment of my over active imagination, it was for real! This was my man and the vision I’d had, had indeed been prophetical. God had been directing my life…He had been giving me glimpses into my own future…I wasn’t off my rocker after all, it wasn’t me just fantasy dreaming…it was for real! It was pure unadulterated magic direct from God!” I was gesticulating wildly, attempting to express the sheer awesome wonderment of these facts that made up my life. “I couldn’t believe the outrageous brilliance of it all, I was flying high, soaring the heavens. And The Top Dog never did live anywhere but our house after that! He slept on the couch initially…but then, once all the unpacking was out of the way, all of the reassembling done, we had a house warming party…the rum flowed and I’ve already told you what rum does to me! Although it didn’t do it immediately. It was that minx next door who lead The Top Dog to my bed, so it wasn’t until the following morning that…” I fired the doc a saucy grin, “I leapt on him like a dog on a bone!” I gesticulated to the doc pure passion, “and I need to tell you doc…our coming together was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. It was exquisite, two souls exploding into one, love making of the highest order…I couldn’t get enough of him…”
“I think that’s too much information Constantine.” The doc smiled at me.
“Oh but doc, for a few short months life was intensely, blissfully, passionately, euphoric. I was in rapture, intoxicated with the sheer magical beauty that God in His heaven had bestowed upon me…and, The Top Dog proved to be everything I’d dreamed him to be. He played a mean guitar just like all my visualisations told me he would, as did his best friend, who entered the scene almost immediately, quickly becoming a semi-permanent fixture. His best friends brother also became a regular visitor. What with all three being exceptionally gifted musicians, the two brothers having the voices of angels, when they performed, which was often, I knew I had been transported directly to heaven. What more could a person ask for…a handsome, self possessed, well read, intelligent, calm, cool and collected man…or at least he was until our kids grew up and started answering back! All my preconceived conjecturing hadn’t been a figment of wild imaginings, I had tapped into my own future. It was awesomely stupendous, I could barely believe the wonderment of it all. But I was in bliss, I’d been reunited with my other half.” I giggled, “although it wasn’t until later that I discovered when God handed out the financial acumen to our separate halves, I got the lot, The Top Dog got little! And when He handed out the gift of organisation and keeping on top of mundane tasks, I got the lions share and The Top Dog buggered off to work in a pub!”
The doc was grinning at my tease as I pointed at him sagely, “but… suddenly with his coming, I found myself to have an end to my story. All the loose ends had been miraculously drawn together. All I had to do was work towards turning these events into a world saving situation comedy then the whole thing would be stitched up. I pictured a future end to my comedy whereby I would mislead the audience into thinking I would end up marrying Isaac, when in fact, Isaac ‘would’ marry me, as in, being a sea captain, he would minister over mine and The Top Dogs marriage at sea. A future where the world had been freed from the greed ridden murderous despots, a world where the earth was healed of its man made sickness and everyone lived happily ever after.”
“So what went wrong, why did it last only a few months?” McGivitup interrupted with a puzzled frown.
“Hell entered heaven.” I stated flatly, gazing at the ground without actually seeing it. “Everything fell apart big time. Jealousy ran rampant. The e’strange’d crew took exception to my relationship with The Top Dog. The vitriol began to spew from Gilberts caustic mouth…” I shot the doc a wrathful look, my eyes blazing with long suppressed anger, “I tell you doc, that strutting, self-righteous, ignoramus of a man and his grabbing, grasping wife buried me alive!”
The doc was taken aback by my outburst. “Why, what happened?” He ventured.
“Well the gospel according to Gilbert suddenly became… The Top Dog was a no good scoundrel, only out for what he could get. He was a waster who didn’t know the meaning of work. He would sponge off me and bring me down because he was a drug addled no hoper!” I threw my arms in the air to stress the frustration I’d once felt. “And this from the man who had frequently indulged in every illegal substance conceivable!” I looked the doc in the eye. “I once flushed a bag full of amphetamines down the loo when I’d been married to him… it turned him into an even more insufferable bully than he already was. He went ballistic with me at the time. But suddenly there he was spouting this sanctimonious jaw dropping drivel, and the two faced hypocritical twat was putting The Top Dog down for allegedly doing something that was still, a frequent ongoing theme in his own life! I couldn’t believe the nerve of the man, although I should have, I’d witnessed him doing the same thing to others often enough! Then he started telling me that The Top Dog, who is a million times the man that Gilbert could ever hope to be, was as mad as a hatter and shouldn’t be given house room!”
“So did The Top Dog have a drug problem?” The doc asked.
“I didn’t ask. If he had it was in the past, I didn’t consider it to be any of my business but it was rumoured that was why he’d come back to the heart of his family, to sort himself out.”
“Is he local then?”
“No, he was a city boy…but his grandmother lived here, they’d visited as a family all his life. Then when his parents retired, they moved here permanently, as did Mr Prefect and his family.” The mention of Mr Prefect jogged another memory. “Yeah, that was another of Gilberts rants. He told me in no uncertain terms…in company and loudly…that I should not, ever, bear a child to this man! The whole family according to Gilbert were unhinged, wasn’t Mr Prefect a perfect example?!” I glanced at the doc with a wry smile. “Now Mr Prefect was indeed an out and out eccentric, he was wont to do things like go and collect his morning milk from the shop while still dressed in his jim-jams and slippers…even on occasion dressed in a nightie!” I giggled. “He just enjoyed shocking people and making them laugh. He was one of life’s clowns, never happier than when he was raising a smile…but unhinged…never! Still, the gospel according to Gilbert was that if I bore a child to this man it was bound to be genetically marred with the inherent derangement characteristic!” I looked McGivitup in the eye while slowly shaking my head. “I can’t believe that at the time of being subject to this vitriolic haranguing I just laughed it off and made jokes. I was on such a high that he just couldn’t touch me. I felt as if I were floating on air, wrapped in the knowledge that Gods invisible presence in our lives was so very, very real. It was so tangible I could almost reach out and touch it. The only cloud on my horizon was Gilberts endless stream of verbal diarrhoea…but even that went straight over my head. When a lady friend of The Top Dog, who was a visitor to both our respective homes, decided she was relocating to another part of the country, The Top Dog said he would accompany her as he had friends in the area who he knew would look out for her. I thought that was a really sweet thing to do. Gilbert on the other hand bombarded me with negatives. If I thought he was coming back, I could think again! He’d taken what he could get…now I wouldn’t see his back for dust. I was a bloody fool if I thought I could take that loser seriously! Blah, blah, blah. I remember giggling while I thought, ‘that’s all you know pal’. This was destiny illuminated for my eyes only…plus he didn’t know that there was also a Hawkwind gig in it for The Top Dog, if there was any major attraction for him, that was it. But, I tried to deal with Gilbert by attempting to explain what was going on in my world, how everything that was happening was of Gods design. How I had now been given the tools to make an impact on the world and change things for the better…all I had to do was finish writing it…but once again I was accused of being full of shit! I was pissing against the wind! And suddenly I found myself accused of being more interested in my writing than I was in the kids!” I threw my arms in the air as I beseeched the doc. “It was because of the kids I was doing it, I wanted, want, a safe and justified world for them to inherit not this war torn shit full of murderous robbers, rapists and greed ridden savages…but would the man listen? No he would not…but then, I’d just given him another weapon to use against me!”
“What do you mean use against you?” The doc quizzed.
“Well him and Maggie were trying for, not only a baby, but also council house as well, they were constantly bewailing the fact that they didn’t have enough points to get them anywhere near securing one, it just being the two of them. So they stepped up the pressure they’d already been placing on the kids, filling their heads full of nonsense as regarded The Top Dog and myself. I was beginning to find all the needless back stabbing not only hurtful but downright nasty. Meanwhile, because we had been inundated with bills from the stay in temporary, all electric, accommodation and a few debts The Top Dog had outstanding, I took a job at an old peoples care home doing a couple of night shifts a week. It did me no good at all. Not only was I already physically exhausted from all the recent upheavals, but I couldn’t adapt to sleeping through the day, I simply didn’t sleep at all for those two all nighters. Plus, lifting the infirm residents in and out of bed triggered an old injury of mine. As you know, I’ve long suffered, in bouts, from a hiatus hernia, an attack was building causing me tremendous pain. The stress I was being placed under by rent a gob didn’t exactly help! After years of him barely showing his face at my house, it being me who was expected to do all the running where the e’strange’d relationship was concerned…suddenly he was rarely off our doorstep making a big issue about checking up on ‘his’ children’s welfare. But I was still attempting to keep things light hearted, so every time I bumped into any of the company who had been present at Gilberts former rant, I would grip my side and declare the baby was kicking again…which generally caused laughter all round, because as ever, there were those who didn’t so much laugh with Gilbert as laughed at him. He wasn’t so much the joker, more the joke…but, metaphorically there was indeed a baby kicking!”
“What do you mean?” The doc appeared puzzled.
“Well, as the onslaught from Gilbert and by now Isaac as well, intensified, that pain in my side quickly escalated into a total and absolute collapse of health. It hit me like a sledge hammer. It was as if all my past traumas caught up with me in one fell swoop. I had the biggest hernia attack I’d ever had…I was bringing up blood.”
“I remember that,” the doc cut in, “I sent you for a barium meal to see what was going on.”
“Yes you did.”
“I recall The Top Dog accompanied you.”
“Yeah, because at the same time I kept periodically feeling my spirit remove from my body… it was well scary, every time it happened my dog would go mad, snarling and barking furiously at something just beyond my shoulder! I ‘knew’ I was close to death. It was a truly awful time. I felt as if the life had just drained out of me, I had absolutely no strength what-so-ever, I just wanted to lay down and sleep for a hundred years. My head became too heavy for my body, it was a real effort just holding it up. I remember being really bitterly cold all the time, completely chilled to the bone, but it was as if the cold was coming from the inside out, as opposed to from the outside in. And by that point I’d quit the care home job and was working part-time along side The Top Dog at a restaurant. I was hard put to simply function, it was like I was on automatic pilot. But I was determined to keep going and not give in to the illness, although I did concede to resting a lot whenever I got the chance. But throughout all this, I was still being bombarded by Gilbert’s venomous spleen, even though I told him and he could clearly see, I was ill. But then, Gilbert never was one for listening. He only did talking down, or more to the point shouting down. There was only one view point that ever mattered with him…it was his own! Then even Isaac jumped on the band wagon, taking every opportunity to have a go. We were round at his house one evening, a few of the leather clad angels were there when he ripped the shit out of me, dredging up my seedy past. I was mortified and felt utterly betrayed. And it’s a good job I’d already told The Top Dog about my past because he certainly found out about it that day! And I don’t know…” I looked at the doc frowning, “I find it difficult to put into words this chapter of my life, because although it spanned a couple of years, so much happened in such a short space of time that it sends me reeling just thinking about it. However, it was during that atmosphere that I felt the urge to turn to The Bible. So I took myself off to the bath, where I could subdue the chills and read in peace. Then I randomly opened it. This is what I was presented with.”
I rummaged in my backpack and extricated a notebook which I opened before looking the doc in the eye. I read.

“S John. Ch 12 v 47/48.
And if any man hear my sayings, and keep them not, I judge him not: for I came not to judge the world, but to save the world.
He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my sayings, hath one that judgeth him: the word that I spake, the same shall judge him in the last days.
For I spake not from myself; but the Father which sent me, he hath given me a commandment, what I should speak. And I know that his commandment is life eternal: the things therefore which I speak, even as the Father hath said unto me, so I speak.”

I eyed the doc in earnest. “To say a shiver went down my spine is an understatement. Me who had long been on a mission to save the world. Me who had over the years actively prayed for God to give me the tools and the power to do just that, to randomly open the Bible and set my eyes on that passage…how strange was that?” I kept eye contact with him. “But that was only the beginning of it. I had snapped the book shut, not quite believing what I’d just read, then randomly opened it again.

Romans. Ch 8 v 3.
For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own son in the likeness of sinful flesh and as an offering for sin, condemned sin in the flesh.

What! This was getting seriously weird. Me, who had long ago accepted that my days of promiscuity had happened for some sort of divine reason to randomly open at that passage, what were the chances of that happening? And yeah, although I came to think of promiscuous sex as being cheap and tawdry and would advise against it, especially with aids, clamidia and other sexually transmitted diseases running rampant, I certainly wouldn’t condemn someone for doing it. The sins of the flesh I condemn are the ones where people get murdered, mutilated and ripped off by the powers that supposedly have our best interests at heart! Where those same powers sanction the earth being raped and pillaged for profit. They are the sins of the flesh that I condemn. Still, I recall I was shaking as I repeated the process.

Corinthians 11 Ch 5 v 21.
Him who knew no sin he made to be sin on our behalf; that we might become the righteousness of God in him.

I was blown away, it was as if the thing were talking to me. It was too much, I couldn’t handle the implications, it was too ridiculous for words. But then I kept thinking about my former visions…I was Gods chosen one… kept coming into my mind. Even so, I decided I was delusional, I’d been smoking too much wacky baccy, I convinced myself it had sent me psychotic. I gave it up there and then. I was ill I told myself, I must have finally flipped! I went into denial. But then the music hit me, songs I’d been listening to for years suddenly took on a whole new meaning.”
I showed him the cassette case where upon I’d written the biblical passage;

Isaiah Ch 62 v 6.
I have set watchmen upon thy walls O Jerusalem; they shall never hold their peace day nor night; they are the Lords remembrancers, take ye no rest, And give him no rest, till he establish, and till he make Jerusalem a praise of the earth.

I turned the walkman on and the music kicked in as Bob Marley’s voice sang out…
She loved to party, have a good time.
She looks so hearty, feeling fine.
She loved to smoke, sometimes shifting coke.
She’d be laughing when there aint no joke.
A pimpers paradise that’s all she was now…
As the chorus continued I said to the doc as a matter of fact, “I never did coke.”
A pimpers paradise that’s all she was now, every need got an ego to feed.

The music continued.

She loved to model up in the latest fashion.
She’s in the scramble and she moves with passion.
She’s getting high, trying to fly the sky.
Now she is bluesing when there aint no blues.
A pimpers paradise…

I eyed McGivitup, “And oh boy did I find myself buried in the blues! The weight of everything hitting me at once nigh on bloody killed me!”

Pimpers paradise that’s all she was now.
I’m sorry for the victim now because, soon their heads, soon their heads, soon their very heads will bow.
Don’t lose track, don’t lose track of yourself, don’t be just a stock on the shelf…

“It was beginning to appear that my life was written in the stars, even down to the giving up smoking thing. ‘Can you kick it? Yes you can,’ by A Tribe Called Quest, seemed to dominate the airwaves.”

The doc was looking gob smacked as an authoritative voice rang from the speakers, Do you realise what this could mean? It could be the end! Loudspeaker… Loudspeaker…Loudspeaker. A drum roll followed before it melted into a song by a band called Top.
Angel came from heaven, European skin.
Here she come all dressed in black, she always steals the scene.
Searching for adventure, sparkle in her eyes.
She’s got cosmic heaven, strewn between her thighs.
She’s got all the world in her hands…
The song continued as the doc surveyed me, dressed in my usual black. Then The Wonderstuff kicked in.

Laugh when he jokes, love him when he chokes, it’s time to give up the smokes.
And oh when he cries don’t wipe his eyes, take the wine from the swine and remind him of his crimes.
Ohh in another world, yeah he could wear a dress…
Imagine his surprise when he opened his eyes and I ran a lawnmower over his thighs…”that recurring word again…” I interjected.
Imagine the disturbance at the time of the occurrence when his life became a burden we laughed at his cries .
Oh in another world, yeah he could wear a dress.
Welcome to the cheap seats, welcome to the cheap seats, welcome to the cheap seats, where your life’s seen through cracked spectacles.

The doc was all ears as the song ended to be replaced with a noise resembling, fu fu fu, fu fu fu, fu fu fu…to me it sounded mildly like, fuck, fuck, fuck up! It tickled my funny bone.
“Yeah,” I said prophetically, “the media will no doubt do their best to rip me apart when this little lot comes to light, digging the dirt on my ‘crimes?’, in an effort to discredit Gods truth.”
The opening to Genesis’s Behind The Lines began to issue forth.

I held the book so tightly in my hands,
I saw your picture, heard you call my name
There was something strange, I could not look away
I wanted to be there, I wanted to go

You gave me no warning
You gave no reason
But I was with you
Right by your side
Just give me the strength, and I will help you
And they can try their hardest, cos they don’t frighten me

It is written in the book

It is hotter than I’ve known before, but I feel so cold, and I don’t
know why
But if the fire within your heart can beat the storm
Then I really believe, you could make it right

Ooh the time has come now
We must show our feelings
But I’m looking right through you
And your heart is empty

Whatever happened to you it’s too late to change now
There’s nowhere you can run to, no place to hide
Ah you let me down!

…but wait a minute, I don’t understand
It’s getting stronger, so grab my hand
Don’t wanna leave you, don’t wanna go
But I’m losing all control
Can’t you see me? I’m slipping away
I can only stay if you’ve the will to keep me here

It is written in the book

Oh so many times since then I’ve read those words
Just waiting to see you, can you see me?

An instrumental played on and morphed into Duchess also by Genesis.

Times were good,
She never thought about the future, she just did what she would
Oh but she really cared
About her music, it all seemed so important then,

And she dreamed that every time that she performed
Everyone would cry for more,
That all she had to do was step into the light,
And everyone would start to roar.

And on the road,
Where all but a few fall by the wayside on the grassier verge,
She battled through
Against the others in her world, and the sleep, and the odds.

But now everytime that she performed
Oh everybody cried for more,
Soon all she had to do was step into the light,
For everyone to start to roar.
And all the people cried, you’re the one we’ve waited for.

Oh but time went by
It wasn’t so easy now, all uphill, and not feeling so strong.
Yes times were hard,
Too much thinking ’bout the future and what people might want.

And then there was the time that she performed
When nobody called for more
And soon everytime she stepped into the light,
They really let her know the score.
But she dreamed of the times when she sang all her songs
And everybody cried for more,
When all she had to do was step into the light
For everyone to start to roar.
And all the people cried, you’re the one we’ve waited for.

“Then I started questioning…but I’m a woman, I’m divorced, I’ve lived a wild life?

Isaiah Ch 66 v 7.
Before she travailed, she brought forth; before her pain came, she delivered of a man child. Who hath heard such a thing? Who hath seen such things? Shall a land be born in one day? Shall a nation be brought forth at once? for as soon as Zion travailed, she brought forth her children. Shall I bring to the birth, and not cause to bring forth? saith the Lord: shall I that cause to bring forth shut the womb? saith thy God.

Isaiah Ch 50 v 1.
Thus saith the Lord, where is the bill of your mothers divorcement, wherewith I have put her away? Or which of my creditors is it to whom I have sold you? Behold for your iniquities were ye sold, and for your transgressions was your mother put away.

Matthew Ch 11 v 19.
The son of man came eating and drinking, and they say, behold, a gluttonous man and a wine biber, a friend of publicans and sinners. And wisdom is justified by HER works.”

I hit the on button of the walkman, Carter’s Unstoppable Sex Machine thundered into our senses with their crash, bang, wallop, loudly pulsating rhythm vibrating like an oncoming earthquake.

Exhibit F the reporter said. Loved you to death after the watershed.
Between the open university and close down you were dead.
He warmed your cockles with his magic tricks.
Glasses, bottles, bottles, filter tips.
John Player special number six, six, six.
Exhibit G from the family firm, his bride to be taking twists and turns, to give you French kisses and Chinese burns.
She had a skin-full and she couldn’t stop, just like a pit bull in a China shop.
And all the cream social workers, the Gurkha’s and the cops somehow couldn’t love you back to life again now.
A black eye for a black eye, a chipped tooth for a chipped tooth.
Nothing but the home truth, nothing but the home truth.
And it’s goodbye Ruby Tuesday, come home you silly cow.
We baked a cake and your friends are waiting, David Icke said he’d like to show us how, to love you back to life again now.
Goodbye Ruby Tuesday, come home you silly cow…

I flicked off the walkman and addressed McGivitup.
“A couple of those songs didn’t appear until some time later but it’ll give you an idea of the climate into which Gilbert came round busting for a fight. Saladin, who was fourteen at the time, had become very confused with the war that had broken out between us with the coming of The Top Dog. He had decided, after being verbally bombarded by his father with an endless list of negatives concerning his mothers new man, to go with the devil he knew and had moved in with his dad. Having previously been the man of the house he was probably feeling a little usurped as well, although The Top Dog has never interfered in their lives unless they’ve requested him to. Still, his dad was now demanding that I signed the family allowance book over to him. I duly complied but he couldn’t bring himself to leave until he’d crowed it over us. Saladin had gone to live with him because that’s where he was happiest. Sparah wouldn’t be far behind he predicted, because frankly I’d lost it. I tried to reason with him and explain how I was striving to make the world a better place, but it was in vain, you just couldn’t deliberate with the man. I was informed in no uncertain terms that it wasn’t my place to worry about the world and its affairs, the second coming of Christ would be here soon enough to usher in that great day of reckoning…and then we would witness the corrupt bastards howl and gnash their teeth.” McGivitup was transfixed as I looked him in the eye sombrely. “As soon as the words were out of his mouth I felt a shiver run through my body. The hairs on my back and neck stood on end as the blood drained from my face. I’d never heard of the second coming of Christ in my life before, it was a total revelation to me. But suddenly my head filled with a million and one thoughts as I searched for truth. I looked at Gilbert still ranting, only I wasn’t hearing him anymore, I was seeing Peter the fisher of men, a babbling fool even way back then. I examined my opinion of Christ. I’d always thought he had been terribly misunderstood by the Christian religion. He was a rebel who stood up to a cruel and corrupt regime, while preaching righteousness, truth and Gods love. His path had also been preordained. As for the immaculate conception…it was obvious to me that Mary was a poor person who had been forced to prostitute herself in order to survive, hense she hadn’t a clue who the father was, thus Jesus jokingly became the son of God and hense forth referred to as the son of man, although which mortal man was not known. The loaves and the fishes story was simplicity itself as far as I was concerned, it was a case of a massive crowd pooling their resources then sharing equally so that all had more than enough…exactly what we need to do now at this, the end of the age. It never ceases to amaze me as to how many intelligent people have been taken in by what is effectively Chinese whispers stretching down the ages, with God alone knows how many people adding their version of what human morality ought to be, until the original teaching has been swamped and all but obliterated. ” I looked him in the eye earnestly. “And, it’s a little known fact that Christianity would have died the death and been buried in the long mists of time were it not for Saint Paul…he who had the revelation on the road to Damascus…it was only down to his zealous preaching that Christianity survived at all. And it was as all this was flashing through my head that I looked at The Top Dog, patiently ignoring Gilbert’s diatribe…he had diligently taken care of me when my health gave out. He fed me. He gently encouraged me to go out walking and working part time to keep going. He kept me alert by playing strategic board games. He was heavily into world history and how the many and varied wars had altered the worlds course. It came to me that he was the soldier of Christ that was Saint Paul.” I gazed into the middle distance. “And that was the first of many brain storms to come.”
McGivitup was speechless but obviously riveted.
“Still, after that, as soon as the opportunity arose I took off for the bath with the Bible. I randomly opened it again.

Hebrews Ch 9 v 28.
So Christ also, having been offered to bear the sins of many, shall appear a second time, apart from sin, to them that wait for him, unto salvation.

I felt like screaming…stop it, stop it, stop it! The weight I was feeling was totally and absolutely overwhelming…I was supposed to be saving the world and yet all my plans were disintegrating before my very eyes. How could I write a situation comedy promoting peace, love and harmony when all around me were declaring war? I opened again.

Hebrews Ch 10 v 7.
Then said I, Lo, I am come (in the roll of the book it is written of me) To do thy will, O God.

I should have been rejoicing, my prayers were being answered. Instead a deep, deep blackness was descending upon me. I was becoming overwhelmed by the blackest of black depressions. I clearly saw Gilbert digging his own grave. His needless, gain orientated treachery not only ripped my heart out when I thought of all that had gone before but he was causing me to lose the world. I felt the entire populace of earth was doomed because this one man and his wife had chosen to go down the wrong path. I was in abject despair, overtaken by a whole gamut of emotions. How could one man do so much damage? I opened again.

Hebrews Ch 10 v 29.
Of how much sorer punishment, think ye, shall he be judged worthy, who hath trodden underfoot the son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant, wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing, and hath done despite unto the spirit of grace.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! I cried as I looked down all my adult years. Gilbert had always been there. Yes he’d been an unholy pain a lot of the time…but we’d climbed mountains together, we had history, we’d turned bad into good. I couldn’t let him do this, I couldn’t allow his actions to cause me to lose the entire world, I had to stop him!”
“And did you?” McGivitup prompted.
“Oh I tried…unfortunately I only succeeded in causing myself more grief…I took to arranging to meet Gilbert in the dock…I desperately tried to talk sense into him, but it was like the LSD experience I’d had in the pub way back, I was so high above perceived normality that I failed to communicate. He just carried on sticking the knife in my back. And my running around after Gilbert caused me to get a lot of black eyed looks from The Top Dog. It was then that the Eurythmics Missionary Man came on the radio.” I glanced at the doc. “Are you familiar with that song?”
He shook his head.
“Well it goes like this.” I said flicking on the music machine.

I was born an original sinner
I was born from original sin
And if I had a dollar bill for all the things I’d done
There’d be a mountain of money piled up to my chin
My mother told me good
My mother told me strong
She said be true to yourself and you can’t go wrong
But there’s just one thing that you must understand
You can fool with your brother but don’t mess with the missionary man
Don’t mess with the missionary man
Don’t mess with the missionary man
Oh the missionary man
He’s got God on his side
He’s got the saints and apostles backing up from behind
Black eyed looks from those bible books
He’s a man with a mission
He’s got a serious scowl
There was a woman in the jungle and a monkey up a tree
The missionary man
He was following me
He said stop what your doing and get down upon your knees
I’ve got a message for you that you’d better believe…believe.

“Wow!” Was all the doc could muster.
“Wow indeed…I discovered you don’t mess with a missionary man. Although I was totally confused at the time, I thought I had to save everyone from what was coming, including Maggie and Gilbert. However, I was utterly and completely bombarded with a relentless torrent of supernatural phenomenon…it was as if my mind had become connected to the universe and the whole of eternity was being downloaded into my mind. At one point I became so saturated with knowledge that I could only hold one thought for a moment before another one was vying for my attention. And all the time magic was flying at me from every direction!” I held my arms wide in frustration, “how could it be? The life I had lived was being paraded before me in the most extraordinary of ways! They were singing about ‘my’ life…the life I’d lived was being revealed in ‘the’ book. To say I was gob smacked is the understatement of the entire history of the universe! I was seeing right back to Adam and Eve…We were Adam and Eve…I was the temptress…”

I shot him a look, “only it weren’t no apple, I can tell you! But somehow I determined to keep my eye on the goal, I was ‘not’ going to lose the world, somehow I would save the situation. Needless to say, I ended up losing my marbles big time. I was swamped by a million and one problems and I couldn’t understand why I was getting the cold treatment from The Top Dog. On the one hand he would possessively sling his arm round my shoulder and publicly kiss me if Isaac, Gilbert or any of their crew were around, while on the other, behind closed doors, he treated me coldly. I couldn’t understand it, I was cut to the quick, totally confused and confounded. The pain was unbearable. I thought he would have taken it as read that I had to save the situation with Gilbert in order to carry out the world saving quest. But by that point I was so deep in the pits of despair and black depression that I thought I was being punished for past sins from the former life of Eve which had previously been shrouded by death. In my black hole of dejection, whereby no one seemed to care whether I lived or died, I became ultra sensitive to The Top Dogs every move, his every word, looking for clues. It didn’t even occur to me that he might have been laying  claim to me, showing them I was his. And being really hurt by my seeming betrayal of him. I should have left Gilbert to rot in his own bile, I can see that now. I hurt my man and I regret that.” I shook my head sadly. “But do you know what doc?” I looked at him. “Had the situation been reversed, I would have reacted in exactly the same way, because at the time of living it, he wasn’t aware of precisely how ill I was, I kept it from him. Just like I kept it from all my close family, I attempted to put up a front of normality, while doing my best to hide the reality. I told Gilbert and Maggie how ill I was, once as I recall quite angrily. And I can not express the gut wrenching emotions I went through on discovering that they couldn’t care less whether I lived or died, while taking advantage of the situation by continuing to stick a knife in my back at every opportunity! They set me on a downward cycle the likes of which have never been seen before! I must have driven The Top Dog demented, it was a bloody heavy load for a young man to bear, he was only twenty four then, nine years my junior and I know he felt as lost as I did with the situation that had developed and as it became obvious I was on a downward spiral, he became extraordinarily loving and concerned. Meanwhile the damage had been done, the demon voice of darkness began telling me that he was only with me because there was a job to do, a world to save. I strove to stay above the situation, telling myself it was the depression speaking, until the music hit me!”
I turned the music on again.
Led Zeppelin. Stairway To Heaven, rang out.

There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold and she’s buying a stairway to heaven.
When she gets there she knows if the stores are all closed, with a word she can get what she came for.
Ooo…and she’s buying a stairway to heaven.
There’s a sign on the wall, but she wants to be sure, ’cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.
In a tree by the brook, there’s a songbird who sings, sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven.
Oo…it makes me wonder.
There’s a feeling I get when I look to the west, and my spirit is crying for leaving.
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees, and the voices of those who stand looking.
And it whispers that soon if we all call the tune, then the piper will lead us to reason.
And a new day will dawn, for those who stand long, and the forests will echo with laughter.
If there’s bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now, it’s just a spring clean for the May queen.
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there’s still time to change the road you’re on.
And it makes me wonder.
Your head is humming and it won’t go, in case you don’t know, the piper’s calling you to join him.
Dear lady can you hear the wind blow, and did you know your stairway lays on the whispering wind.
And as we wind on down the road, our shadows taller than our soul, there walks a lady we all know who shines white light and wants to show how everything still turns to gold.
And if you listen very hard, the tune will come to you at last, when all are one and one is all, to be a rock and not to roll.
And she’s buying a stairway to heaven.

” Suddenly The Top Dog became the songbird who sings, giving misgiven thoughts. And I was the one who wanted to be sure because yes, sometimes words do have two meanings. Why were they singing that if there was nothing in it, I wanted to know? What did the last line in Pimper’s Paradise mean…don’t lose track of yourself, don’t be just a stock on the shelf? Why were Genesis singing ‘that’ in Super’s Ready? I began to feel he was telling me without words, through the music, both that of the ‘stars’ and of his own, which he and his friends were playing regularly, that love didn’t enter into it. I was heart broken. I loved him so much it hurt. It was like a physical pain, it was insufferable. I started to feel as if even God had betrayed me. The weight of everything was crushing me, I could hardly bear it, but there was still a job to do and I’d be damned if I was going to let the world down without a fight. I started to harden my heart and manically began sending package after package to any ‘star’ I could get half an address for, in an attempt to call together the archers against Babylon, all them that bend the bow…which Biblical passage, Jeremiah Ch 50 v 29, I interpreted as meaning the songsters who bent the bow…guitar strings, and sent their arrows in the form of lyrics. I became obsessed with enlightening someone, anyone to the things that I saw, in order to gather the forces to fulfil the rest of that scripture…camp against her round about; let none thereof escape: recompense her according to her work; according to all that she hath done, do unto her: for she hath been proud against the Lord, against the Holy One of Israel. I even went on to send reams to the lads down south, attempting to enlighten them and thereby solve the Gilbert problem. Then The Top Dog proposed to me under an oak tree. He was trying to show me that I’d misunderstood his actions and that our love was for real. But although I always retained that tiny flicker of light deep inside that saw the truth, I was overwhelmed by the demon voice of dark depression that kept telling me he wasn’t marrying me for love but to restore harmony in the warring tribe, so enabling me to fulfil my destiny.” I eyed the doc thoughtfully, “I recall thinking that up to meeting The Top Dog, I’d managed to live my life with no regrets as regards the important stuff in life, but suddenly, with the proposal I acknowledged I was piling up regrets by the bucketful! Sadly there wasn’t a thing I could do about it except cling on to that tiny glimmer of truth that was battling to rise above the black depression that was sweeping me along and continually dragging me under. I knew the proposal came, out of love, to restore my peace of mind. Only the music escalated out of all proportion the negative state of mind I was in. Even though I knew I was in the presence of angels when The Top Dog and his friends got together to play their guitars and sing, there was one song that my depressive mind took literally. It’s called ‘Losing You’ and tells the story of a man who loves his woman but she’s in the gutter making herself quite a name…he says, I wanted you, you wanted anyone you could get, losing you might be the best thing yet. I tell you doc, I was well fucked! I thought they wanted me dead, my mind began taking everything the wrong way. I remember constantly wandering round the house mumbling, ‘death traps…fucking death traps everywhere!’ But I’ve never been one for giving in, I most certainly wasn’t about to crumble under this seemingly satanic onslaught, I fought it all the way. So, although I was dreading all the work a wedding would entail and I knew it was going to be an almighty struggle for me to get through it in my precarious state of both mental and physical health, we got planning and organising. I was constantly worn out, I had to apply mind over matter just to get through each day. And I tried desperately not to look on the black side and instead treat it as an all round healing ceremony. We invited all our family and friends, which was one massive crowd of people at the outset. I invited Gilbert, Maggie and Isaac and Gilbert and Isaac’s parents. Gilbert took it upon himself to invite all his friends to the evening celebrations! It was one hell of an exhausting day which we had to stay behind to clean up after. But it did have its high moments. One of which was Father Augustus surveying Mr. Prefect and his brothers, all slap heads. He declared, ‘by, if I’d have married their mam, them lads would have had hair!’ Then Gilbert’s dad gave me a big hug and told me he wished I’d been a daughter of his! And Isaac bless him, buried the hatchet, he gave us enough money by way of a wedding present to enable us to go on a honeymoon. It was a bit of a cheap skate affair, we begged a lift off one of the guests who would be passing through Aylesbury and spent a few days camping there. It was beautiful.”
“So did the wedding have the desired effect?”
“No, things went from bad to worse. I was really pleased that Isaac and I had made our peace but by that time Maggie was pregnant, she had a baby a month later and they were becoming increasingly desperate for a council house. The knives came out big time as they tried to discredit me. Suddenly people I’d known for years began crossing the road to avoid me. Malicious gossip was being spread and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. I was still a gibbering wreck, I think I’d begun to suffer a complete breakdown by then. Meanwhile, the season ended and we were out of work with the bills still flooding in. Then Sparah who had hit the teens and discovered boys in a big way, was behaving badly. She was leading me a dance I couldn’t handle in my fragile state of health. Although I was as much to blame, I was blowing the situation out of proportion because I’d lost the ability to deal with it. So I asked her if she would mind going to live with her dad for a while until I was better. Gilbert treated that as a major victory, he crowed and gloated and blew his own trumpet, he swaggered and strutted and rammed his supposed triumph down our throats at every opportunity. Suddenly I realised that nothing I could do was going to repair that relationship. All I was achieving was leaving myself open to mega amounts of stress that I could well do without. All the constant aggravation was preventing my own healing process, if anything I was being pushed deeper and deeper into despair. I remember looking at him one day while he was ‘bigging’ himself up and just thinking, ‘your burying me alive, after everything I have done to keep your relationship with the kids on an even keel, this is how you repay me!’ Then a distant memory surfaced. I recalled Gilbert went through a phase in the early days of our marriage, telling anyone who would listen about an experience he’d had before we met when he and some pals had decided to hold a seance for a lark. They’d all sat round the ouija board with their fingers on the glass. Apparently the thing went wild, it kept demanding out, out, out, before going to him and jabbing like a finger, then spelling out death. He claimed it kept it up until he left the room and it scared him witless. As I stood there on the receiving end of yet more of his bile, I realised that I had to let go…he was killing me! That night I randomly opened The Bible and read.

Revelation Ch 12 v 1.
And a great sign was seen in heaven; a woman arrayed with the sun and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars; And she was with child: and she crieth out, travailing in birth, and in pain to be delivered. And there was seen another sign in heaven; and behold, a great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his heads seven diadems. And his tail draweth the third part of the stars of heaven, and did cast them to the earth: and the dragon stood before the woman which was about to be delivered, that when she was delivered, he might devour her child. And she was delivered of a son, a man child, who is to rule the nations with a rod of iron: and her child was caught up unto God, and unto his throne. And the woman fled into the wilderness, where she hath a place prepared of God, that there they may nourish her, a thousand two hundred and threescore days.

Revelation Ch 12 v 14.
And there were given to the woman the two wings of the great eagle, that she might fly into the wilderness unto her place, where she is nourished for a time, and times and half a time, from the face of the serpent. And the serpent cast out of his mouth after the woman water as a river, that he might cause her to be carried away by the stream. And the earth helped the woman, and the earth opened her mouth, and swallowed up the river which the dragon cast out of his mouth.

I cast them out of my life there and then. Although the heartache didn’t end there, they failed to afford me the same rights I’d always afforded them as regarded the kids. Week followed endless week, then stretched into months, without so much as a word. I was reduced to walking the streets just to catch a glimpse of my own children. In my deeply depressed state I was seeing this as totally undeserved, I felt I was being punished…it sent me reeling down a path that wasn’t mine to follow. I can’t blame the kids, they were teenagers, renowned for being self-centred. Gilbert and Maggie weren’t teenagers, they were adults who I had always treated fairly. Their willingness to allow the kids to cut all contact with me was a wicked act in the extreme, but deliberate on their part. To say I was cut to the quick by their betrayal is the understatement of the millennium, I was totally heartbroken at being estranged from my own children, I felt as if the final carpet had been cruelly pulled from under my feet. And I couldn’t argue with them anymore, my strength was spent, I was empty of fight. Although it had been just prior to my finally closing the door on them and placing them in the past tense, that I’d been thinking a lot about my own mothers death. I’d had no regrets when she died. So because no effort had been made to encourage the kids to keep contact with me, I’d begun to freak out about the mountain of regrets they would have to contend with were I to expire. That was the last conversation I willingly held with Gilbert and Maggie, when I asked them to consider these things. It made not one iota of difference. I had to let it go, I needed to restore my own health. So I earnestly determined not to be drawn back into their seedy, one-up-man-ship, back stabbing, underhand world. It was months later when The Top Dog and I were going to visit his mum, who lived just up the street from Gilbert. She was one of the most loving, caring and gentle women you could wish to meet, she treated me as if I were her own daughter, she loved me and cared for me and helped me heal. On the way we had to walk past Gilbert’s cottage and he was stood outside having what appeared to be a heated altercation with the couple whose children I’d looked after while they toured America. I had no idea what it was about, no one told me anything about what my children were up to. I was still really ill and had no desire to be drawn into another one of Gilbert’s dramas. So I thought stuff him, if he’s such a perfect parent he can deal with it. He’d shut me out of the lives of my own children, I didn’t know who they were anymore, it was his problem, he could deal with it. I walked straight by only briefly acknowledging the couple and ignoring Gilbert. I’m sure they were shocked, but I wouldn’t have known where to begin explaining the reasoning behind my actions. I quietly told myself that the truth would out one day, until then they could believe whatever they wished. And the Biblical passages just kept coming.

11 Corinthians Ch 8 v 9.
For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might become rich.

Yeah, I’ve been poor and poverty stricken but once my mission comes to fruition the world will be vastly richer.

Luke Ch 17 v 25.
But first he must suffer many things and be rejected of this generation.

Chronologically I’m not relating the history of this period very well. Only at the time of living it I was swamped, it was as if everything happened simultaneously. But these passages always presented themselves at the appropriate moment.

Jeremiah Ch 8 v 21.
For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt; I am black; astonishment hath taken hold on me. Is there no balm in Gilead? is there no physician there? why then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?

Yet my healers were all around me. I was being nursed and nourished to the best of their ability. Their songs were supposed to be uplifting. Only I didn’t see it. If there was a sign to misread, I misread it.

Jeremiah Ch 17 v13.
O Lord, the hope of Israel, all that forsake thee shall be ashamed; they that depart from me shall be written in the earth, because they have forsaken the Lord, the fountain of living waters.

Isaiah Ch 51 v 9.
Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord; awake as in the days of old, the generations of ancient times. Art thou not it that cut Rahab in pieces, that pierced the dragon?

I was feeling totally exhausted with these revelations. I’d relived them so many times before I was sick at heart of the whole thing. All I wanted to do was forget everything and move on. I’d been trying to enlighten the outside world to the truth for so long it defied belief. This thing was most certainly being written in blood. I’d started out writing everything by hand. Then I progressed to a typewriter. Then a word processor. I worked that thing so hard it burnt out, losing all my material. Another word processor and the task of reproducing all my former words, hellish events I would have preferred to forget but couldn’t…the world depended on my word so how could I cast it from my mind? I couldn’t. The children depended on me and me alone. I had to be strong. I no longer knew how I would see this thing through, but I had to keep faith that a solution would present itself at the God given time.”
“Well things obviously came right in the end,” the doc interjected, “your always talking about your children and grandchildren.”
“Yes they did, it was a long hard journey, and there is so much I’ve not related, but The Top Dog and I decided to start a family. I knew he was worried about my, still precarious, state of health. But I was determined, I knew he was desperate to be a dad and I needed something to fill the huge gaping hole that the departure of my other two had left. And I knew, if anything would lure them back, it would be a new brother or sister to play with. So, despite The Top Dogs reservations, I got pregnant. It’s the best thing I ever did because even though I was convinced he would be a girl, to the degree of not even choosing a boys name, Jah came kicking and laughing into this world and my heart swelled with unbridled love. He was all the healing I needed. And it was he whose happy, laughing nature brought my lost children home again…after Gilbert and Maggie had got their much sought after council house, which was, joy of joys in another village well away from ours! Unfortunately Saladin had been pushed into the merchant navy by his father, I hadn’t been consulted once about this matter. Sal hated it and later admitted that towards the end he became suicidal. I told him to pack it in. Which he did. His grandfather then barged into our house… for the first time since I’d divorced Gilbert. I’d always made it clear to Gilbert’s parents from the outset that they were welcome to visit their grand children, they never did. He only came round to rip the shit out of Saladin. He was no grandson of his, apparently, he was a poor excuse for a man! A no good waster who would amount to nothing! Blah, blah, blah. Yeah right! At least he was happy and in my book that’s what counts. Still, throughout all this, the Biblical passages kept coming. And by this point I’d found another battle to fight. Yorkshire Water.

1 John Ch 5 v 6.
This is he that came by water and blood, even Jesus Christ; not with the water only, but with the water and with the blood…women bleed.

And then, after my court case and interaction with the judge.

Revelation Ch 19 v 15.
And out of his mouth proceedeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod of iron: and he treadeth the winepress of the fierceness of the wrath of Almighty God. And he hath on his GARMENT and on his THIGH a name written, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords.”

McGivitup was speechless, astonishment issued from every pore on his body.
“How the fuck do you think I felt?” I looked at him wide eyed. “Me of the magic fucking thighs. Me whose garment is littered every which way in the form of a paper trail I’ve left in my wake. Me whose been carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders for what feels like forever!. Like the acid trip enlightened me, its been a long and heavy road I’ve travelled. Especially when I realised that it was because of this ‘job’, this ‘destined path’ that was mine to follow, that my mother died when she did.”
The doc looked bewildered. “How do you make that out?”
“Because had she lived when I passed through ‘my enlightenment’ phase, as it were, and all the shit that entailed, I would definitely have ended up being sectioned. She was a good mother, the best, but had she witnessed me going through what I went through she would have completely freaked out and done what she thought would have been for the best, she would have had me sectioned.”
McGivitup just looked at me wide eyed and agape.
I looked into the middle distance in awestruck wonderment as tears welled in my eyes before uttering, “and she gave up her short lived life for me and the love of mankind…that is some sacrifice.”
The doc appeared to be shell shocked as I continued.
“Still, somehow, as time passed, I came to terms with it all. I got my head together and as the depression lifted, so did all the former black thoughts. And although I’ve never been as light hearted as I once was, what with the responsibility of this thing bearing down on me, I managed to come to terms with the fact that all I could do was my best. I did just that and got on with enjoying my family and oh boy we’ve had plenty of joy, shed loads of it. Mini Me came along when Jah was four and a half. Life was busy. I still took every opportunity to move the quest forward and got down in the dumps every time I failed, but having become more philosophical about the whole thing, instead of freaking out about my failures, I began to think maybe the time wasn’t yet right, after all, all the past stuff had worked itself out, why shouldn’t the future? Although having said that, these past few years have seen me freaking out quite a lot, hence my high blood pressure, because I feel the time is right now! As soon as the twin towers came down the urgency kicked in. But, to relate everything I’ve passed through would take an age, because it becomes ever more subtle the more you delve. But the music also kept coming at me.”
I switched on the tape again.
Queen. The Prophet’s Song, rang out.

Oh oh people of the earth, listen to the warning the seer he said.
Beware the storm that gathers here, listen to the wise man.
I dreamed I saw on a moonlit stair, spreading his hands on the multitude there.
A man who cried for a love gone stale, and ice cold hands of charity bare.
I watched as fear took the old mans gaze, hopes of the young in troubled graves. ‘I see no day’ I heard him say, so grey is the face of every mortal.
Oh oh people of the earth, ‘Listen to the warning’ The prophet he said.
For soon the cold of night will fall, summonded by your own hand.
Ah ah children of the land, quicken to the new life take my hand.
Fly and find the new green bough, return like the white dove.
He told of death as a bone white haze, taking the lost and the unloved babes.
Late to late all the wretches run.
These kings of beasts now counting their days.
From mother’s love is the son estranged, married his own his precious gain.
The earth will shake in two will break, and death all around will be your dowry.
Oh oh people of the earth, listen to the warning the seer he said.
For those who hear and mark my words, listen to the good plan.
Oh oh and two by two my human zoo.
They’ll be running for to come, running for to come, out of the rain.
Flee for your lives who need me now.
Let all your treasures make you fear for your life, deceive you not the fires of hell will take you, should death await you.
Ah people can you hear me?
And now I know that you can hear me.
God give you grace to purge this place, and peace all around may be your fortune.
Oh oh children of the land, love is still the answer take my hand.
The vision fades a voice I hear, Listen to the mad man!
But still I fear and still I dare not, Laugh at the mad man!

Then Peter Gabriel. Solsbury Hill.

Climbing up on Solsbury Hill
I could see the city light
Wind was blowing, time stood still
Eagle flew out of the night
He was something to observe
Came in close, I heard a voice
Standing stretching every nerve
I had to listen had no choice
I did not believe the information
Just had to trust imagination
My heart was going boom boom boom
‘Son,’ he said, ‘grab your things, I’ve come to take you home.’
To keeping silence I resigned
My friends would think I was a nut
Turning water into wine
Open doors would soon be shut
So I went from day to day
Though my life was in a rut
‘Till I thought of what I’d say
Which connection I should cut
I was feeling part of the scenery
I walked right out of the machinery
My heart was going boom boom boom
‘Hey’ he said, ‘grab your things, I’ve come to take you home.’
Yeah back home
When illusion spin her net
I’m never where I want to be
And liberty she pirouette
When I think that I am free
Watched by empty silhouettes
Who close their eyes, but still can see
No one taught them etiquette
I will show another me
Today I don’t need a replacement
I’ll tell them what the smile on my face meant
My heart was going boom boom boom
‘Hey,’ I said, ‘you can keep my things, they’ve come to take me home.

Kula Shaker. Mystical Machine Gun.

Alien identities
Don’t hide your pretty face from me
You awoke from the riddle of your life
But no one was there for you
Open up to where you first began
As a nicotine junkie singing for a kodacam
Are you glad to see how far you’ve come?
Your a wizard in a blizzard
A mystical machine gun
Watch the skies
For the mystical machine gun fire
Alien identities
Don’t hide that special place from me
You walked through the fire with the ten headed lion
And turned on your destiny
Open up forget your life
Breathe in breathe out
Retain a sense of suicide
Are you glad to see how far you’ve come?
Your a wizard in a blizzard
A mystical machine gun
Well you’ve got to be stronger now
Than them, now you’ve got to be strong
You’ll be singing the song of life ’till then
You’ll just have to be strong

Once the lyrics ended, the four horses of the apocalypse could be heard galloping and neighing in the background as a voice implored, ‘Everybody stay calm…don’t panic…it’s just the end of the world…you’ll be alright.’

The docs face was ashen.
Then a short burst of Arthur Brown’s maniacal voice rang out.

I am the God of hell fire and I bring you…FIRE.

Hawkwind followed.

In the darkness I will shine
Cast no shadows or define
Walk on water float on air
There is no other to compare
I have this fascination
No cause for deviation
It’s called levitation, levitation, levitation
There is no cause to start and scream
Nor rub your eyes this is no dream
Although I sit upon this chair
I rise and float up in the air
Magnetic force repel attract
Once it starts there’s no turning back
I offer you this chance to learn
Take it now there’s no return

“Please don’t tell me you can walk on water?” The doc asked, aghast.
I’d already spotted a way of demonstrating this supposed phenomenon, I skipped across the stream and back without getting my feet wet.
“But you were stepping on rocks just below the water.” He wisely observed.
“Exactly,” I replied, “you know how the tide comes in on our beach, some of the scaurs that are near the low tide mark, are actually almost as high as the shoreline, so when the tide comes in, the rest of the beach is covered in water, while the higher scaurs are visible until the last moment. Then once they are finally covered with seawater, a viewer from the shore would be given the illusion that anyone out on that scaur were walking on water.”
“And what about levitating?”
I laughed, “I’m levitating you as we speak!”
He quickly looked around himself nervously, as if he expected to find himself floating in mid air.
“I’m levitating you to a higher state of consciousness.”
By the time we had finished talking, Genesis and their Supper’s Ready was building to its crescendo.

With the guards of Magog, swarming around,
The Pied Piper takes his children underground.
Dragons coming out of the sea,
Shimmering silver head of wisdom looking at me.
He brings down the fire from the skies,
You can tell he’s doing well by the look in human eyes.
Better not compromise.
It won’t be easy.
666 is no longer alone,
He’s getting out the marrow in your back bone,
And the seven trumpets blowing sweet rock and roll,
Gonna blow right down inside your soul.
Pythagoras with his looking glass reflects the full moon,
In blood, he’s writing the lyrics of a brand new tune.
And its hey babe, with your guardian eyes so blue,
Hey my baby, don’t you know our love is true,
I’ve been so far from here,
Far from your loving arms,
Now I’m back again, and babe its gonna work out fine.
Can’t you feel our souls ignite
Shedding ever changing colours, in the darkness of the fading night,
Like the river joins the ocean, as the germ in a seed grows
We have finally been freed to get back home.
There’s an angel standing in the sun, and he’s crying with a loud voice,
‘This is the supper of the mighty one,’
The Lord of Lords,
The King of Kings,
Has returned to lead his children home,
To take them to a new Jerusalem.

McGivitup was sat with his mouth open, starring ahead looking stunned. Then Buffy Sainte Marie began singing.

Oo down Tipi Town
Hoping around
Seeking Inspiration
I been out here on the edge of space
In the human race
I guess I’d gotten lonely but
That’s okay
Now it’s not the way it should be but
That’s okay
I know its not the way it could be and
That’s okay
It’s pretty good for kindergarten and
That’s okay
Come on, we’re only getting started
Thumb-hand human band
can understand
out among the far locations
That the music’s heaven-sent
we can fly on instruments
beyond our isolation and
That’s okay
No its not the way it should be but
That’s okay
Here and now is how it is and
That’s okay
It’s pretty good for kindergarten and
That’s okay
Come on, we’re only getting started
Womb-world paradigm
Understand in time
It’s a sweet investigation
We’re learning rope by rope
Climbing hope by hope
In every combination and
That’s okay
No it’s not the way it should be but
That’s okay
It’s wild in its uniqueness and
That’s okay
Here comes the magic number
So come on, we’re only getting started

As the music drew to a close I started.
“Oh yes, I almost forgot, I haven’t mentioned the numerology.”
“The what ology?” The doc asked dazedly.
“Numerology, the system as found in Dennis Wheatly’s book The Devil And All His Works.”
I handed him a slip of paper, whose contents can be found at the back of this book.
He scanned the paper. “Your number is 999?” He looked at me in amazement. “And Jesus Christ is 99?”
“Work it out for yourself, each letter has a number. You add the letters up, then keep adding up the results until your left with a single number.”
He appeared to do just that. He finally looked up. “Fucking hell Constantine!” He declared.
“Doctor McGivitup…you swore!” I pretend chastised, while grinning inanely at him. I felt so much better for having got that little lot off my shoulders, knowing it would wing its way to someone who would take it seriously.
The doc rubbed his eyes vigorously, before staring into the middle distance, clearly travelling back through all that had past between us.
“So,” he finally asked, “how are you going to save the world?”
“By issuing the final warning.”
“Which is?”
“Well you’ve already had a taste of it from my war on water battle. But, imagine a globe with the equator running through the middle of it. Those at the top of the globe are the souls that have moved mountains to do good works, like Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Bob Geldof and all the wonderful people seen and unseen who have strived to make the world a better place. At the bottom, in the pits, are Saddam Hussein, Hitler, Mugabe and all such vile despots. The rest are somewhere in-between. Those above the equator are the ones who will be back in the human form next time round. Those below will not, at least not unless they turn their backs on their former wickedness and begin making amends rapid like! Although they will still have to go through purgatory and accept whatever befalls them with grace and humility. For example,” I started gesticulating, “imagine all the people who uphold Mugabe’s regime. The soldiers, the police, the henchmen, who follow his orders either through greed or fear. They, unlike their leader whose foul actions has lost him the right to human life eternally, will be given the chance to redeem themselves. So, if they turn around and stop upholding the dictator, instead, helping their country men and women to rebuild what has been destroyed, then they will save their eternal lives. They might still find themselves with soul debts that will need to be paid, but their eternal souls will be saved. Those who don’t, won’t! They will find themselves following Saddam Hussein’s eternal future destiny of being incarnated as food stuff for the rest of us to savour for ever and ever more amen. There is much more to it, but that’s the basics.”
The doc was looking at me with stunned wonderment. “Your going to do it,” he said, “your really going to save the world.”
“Too right I am!” I beamed at him.
We began making our way home shortly after that, mostly in silence, with the doc concentrating hard on what was going on in his own head. He threw the occasional comment into the air. “Brutality shall be no more.” A little later. “Wars shall cease.” Then. “Corrupt governments shall crumble.”
We had just entered the glade before the woods when he looked at me suspiciously and said, “999 is the opposite of 666!”
I laughed fiendishly, “oh, didn’t I mention I’m the devil as well! Because you know what they say…one mans saviour is another mans devil…and anyone who steps out of line from now on, has me to answer too and my punishments are proper justified! You reap what you sow.”
The doc forgot to get off his bike before entering the woods. He hurtled off at high speed straight into a tree! I thought I was going to have to give him the kiss of life. When he finally came round he peered at the sky as if he expected the omnipresent One Himself to descend. Then he saw me and a look of horror crossed his face.
“Don’t worry doc, I’ve been there, lived through that…why do you suppose I got it into my head that they were all out to get me way back in those days of deep depression?”
He shook his head, appearing distinctly uneasy.
“Because that fact occurred to me straight away…the very moment I discovered my numerical number was 999, I immediately reversed it to 666 and convinced myself I was the devil incarnate! I failed to check out the number of Jesus Christ, Jesus = 9, Christ = 9 and if you add 6 + 6 + 6 = 1 + 8 = 9.”

https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2014/04/26/2/

https://ireneconstant.wordpress.com/2014/04/26/inside-the-devil-and-all-his-works/

My eyes were twinkling into his. “But I am the devil incarnate to those that commit evil because I own their souls, it’s written!

Revelation.9v11. And they had a King over them, the angel of the Abyss, whose name in Hebrew is Abaddon. Lol.

Also, Revelation.1v18. I am he that liveth, and was dead; and behold, I am alive for ever more, A-men; and I have the keys of HELL and DEATH.

And, Revelation.10v7. But in the days when the seventh angel is about to sound his trumpet, the mystery of God will be accomplished just as he announced to his servants the prophets.

Only I ain’t got no power over you Doc, you’re too good to be true doc. It’s only those that are going to accuse me of blaspheming God, with my use of language, that I shall have power over. The ones who blaspheme Him by riding rough shod over His creation and His people, while falsely declaring they do it in His name…who’s the blasphemer? I may well take the piss out of God in jest, but have I murdered His innocent children in some spurious claim of political righteousness, have I destroyed His creation for profit? I think not…I may well be the biblical beast and I may well be heading for a short term hell in a bucket…but who gives a flying feck…to save all the beautiful children who just want the chance to live in peace and freedom, I’d do it time and time again. Because those that are good are absolutely adorable and I’ll love them for all eternity. Those who have shit on Gods beloved children and His wondrous creation however are going to be keeling over in their thousands and millions. Even the national treasure that was William Blake, whose iconic work still resonates throughout this green and pleasant land in the form of Jerusalem

wrote of me. In his work Ore Verus Urizen. The theme is expressed by Blake in two opposing characters. One is the jealous and fearful God of the Old Testament, oppressive in State and Church, whom Blake calls Urizen. The other is the perpetually young figure of Christ with the sword, overthrowing the established orders and bringing liberty. This can be found in The Book of Thel. In his The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. One of the main foundations of Blake’s philosophy is the reversal of conventional ideas. In order to understand the teachings, you must overturn them. Blake held that materialistic logic is the hidden force of Heaven-the conventional good, the Orthodox God-which forces man into a mould, restrains his instincts by rules, and limits his spirit by measurement. On the other hand, energy and inspiration are the forces of Satan-what the conventual call Hell or evil-which free man’s instincts from rules and measurement. It is only in such freedom that man’s spirit can soar to it’s greatest heights, and unite body and soul to achieve human genius. Blake urges man to allow his spirit to soar as high as it can.

And so do I.

But now you might understand why it’s all opposite’s? Why I was sent to be a ‘sinful?’ woman. The religious zealots, who are mortal men, desire to oppress the people, especially women, and keep them in chains, claiming to do so in God’s name! Well I’m here to tell them that it’s the end of the age and those that refuse to allow their brother’s and sister’s to live peacefully in freedom will be out of here permanently! To be deleted out of the lambs book of eternal (human) life and sent to a planet that is still evolving through hell or the animal kingdom (food chain) to reside for ever more.

“Jesus Constantine!” He exclaimed as he rolled over and let it all out with hysterical laughter.

“Yes my son?” I answered him knowing that no reply would be forthcoming.

Revelation. Chapter 13 v 18.

Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six.
The Beast…number 666…who can fight the beast?

And this beast is taking you to The New Jerusalem.

The Judgement Day Revelations. Chapter Ten.

Chapter Ten.

It was twelve noon and I was at our usual meeting place, the cricket field. Just for a change the doc was on time. After exchanging hello‘s, mine grumpily, we set off and mounted the disused railway track. The sun was shining down, scorching all below it, us included. The very thought of peddling four miles uphill was a daunting one, so we laboured in silence. It was just as well really because I had a serious cob on and I might have bitten his head off had he tried to make polite conversation. Not only had the entirety of the village had a good old boozy knees up the previous night, only me remaining grouching, grumpily, constantly whiningly sober, under the ever watchful eye of the whiskey sodden McGivitup, but I’d hardly slept a wink since drying up the previous week after the wedding, I was well knackered, plodding through time like a zombie. Sleepless nights don’t make for a cheery person and because of the heartless gink who was my cycling partner, I’d had sleepless nights aplenty and I was like a bear with a sore head! A head that was becoming increasingly unfocused. I found myself doing the oddest of things, like setting out to the post-office and discovering myself at the bakers wondering what the hell I was doing there! Then going into the garden to cut a lettuce and arriving in the kitchen with a cauliflower! I felt as if I was losing my marbles for real, I was not a happy bunny.
About half way into our ride a bench appeared before us, so we stopped for a breather. The vista that spread out before us was magnificent. The whole of the Bay opened up in all its beauty. I plonked myself down on the bench in moody silence, like a teenager with a parental grudge.
“Isn’t this the most beautiful place on Gods earth to live?” McGivitup enthused, full of the joys of life after a whiskey fuelled, night of wild uninhibited dancing.
“It might be if I was awake enough to take it in.” I snapped, pissed off that I could have been feeling like he did…but didn’t! “Only somebody,” I scowled at him, “has condemned me to a bloody zombie land! And I wouldn‘t care,” I ranted, “but it’s not my wine consumption that’s a problem with Him upstairs…it’s the nicotine…your picking on the wrong vice pal!”
The bastard laughed! He was taking pleasure in my suffering!
“I’m picking on both of them. You’ll soon get used to it.” He said benignly.
“Yeah right…says the man who can’t switch off without a shot of the old risky whiskey!”
“I haven’t got high blood pressure.” He defended. “And I’m in a high stress profession, a drop of whiskey at the end of the day helps me to unwind.”
“Oh, I get the picture, your allowed to unwind but I’m not! I tell you doc, I’m more stressed now than I’ve ever been…I could have heart failure at any minute I’m so bloody anxious…so tell me, what good exactly is that doing?”
“Like I said,” the heartless one looked at me soberly, or should I say hungoveredly?, “you’ll get used to it, a few more days and you’ll begin to feel the benefits.”
“Huh!” Was all the response I could muster.
After a few moments of silence, me sat with one of those petulant teenager faces on, McGivitup said, “I want to understand what your problem is Constantine, I really do. I’ve grown fond of you and I want to help…I’m still not convinced you aren’t completely screw ball bonkers,” he grinned at my sulky phizog, as he attempted to imitate my lingo, “but I know you mean well, and I know your absolutely genuine in what you believe, so come on, let‘s continue with the therapy?”
I wasn‘t sure I was in the mood for the letting it all spill out lark, my head was like a fuzz ball and I felt like a half dead camel, the one who was forced to carry that one last straw that broke its back. I sighed, deciding it was an opportunity I shouldn‘t pass over, after all, I still had the quest to pursue, even if I was on my last legs.
The only trouble was, try as I might, I just couldn’t focus my thoughts. I was wallowing in self-pity, I simply couldn’t snap myself out of it…and it was all down to doctor Shamus bloody McGivitup! So I decided to have a good old bask in the black mood that was upon me and unload a few of the past torments I’d lived through on him. The way I saw it, he deserved it, he was the cause of my gloom and doom state of mind…it was his actions that had robbed me of sleep with his bloody avoid alcohol pills casting me into a depressive, negative whingeing mood, now it was pay back time. A good old fashioned wallow in the pits was called for, then hopefully the only way would be up.
“You know that wood that we passed through about a half a mile back?” My eyes were blankly focusing on the middle distance.
“Yes…” he answered curiously.
“When I was a single parent I spent many a freezing cold winters day collecting fallen wood from there.”
“Why did you do that?” Asked he who had never known deprivation.
“Well,” I gave him a matter of fact face, “what can I say, it was Thatcher’s Britain…single parents, the unemployed and the low paid had a desperate time of it under her ruler-ship…look what she did to the miners.” I added as an after thought. “So it was either collect dead wood to burn and help eke out the little coal I could afford or freeze to death. Especially in that draughty hole we called a home! I swear, you could dry washing with the cold air that blew through our living room. Even the bloody carpet would look as if it was breathing…” he shot me a puzzled glance, “there was so much draft coming in under the skirting boards that it lifted the carpet.” I gave him a wry smile. “Every windy day and night our carpets continually lifted up and down with the sheer force of the wind that got in. It freaked the shit out of some of my visitors…they thought we had a resident ghost!” I rested my elbows on my knees and crabbily rested my chin in my cupped hands. “Yeah, that bloody house…” I turned to look him in the eye, dismally. “We didn’t get undressed to go to bed, we piled more clothes on! And when the kids were at Gilbert’s, I’ve been known to pull a man just to share a bit of flaming body heat!”
“Right…” he said, uncomfortably, “I didn’t realise you’d had it so rough…but why did you come so far out to collect wood when there is woodland a lot closer to your home?”
“Because I’d already cleared those close to home of any fallen offerings they had to give!” I looked at him as if he were stupid.
He appeared thoughtful. “So how did you get the wood home?” He finally asked.
“I had an old pram I used to load up.” I answered him peevishly. “A good pram full of wood would last a couple of days if I was lucky.” The way I was feeling at that moment, it was wearing me out just thinking back to those bleak times, I began wondering how I’d managed to survive them. Although, I acknowledged to myself, back then I had all the energy in the world and I had actually enjoyed rummaging about in the woods. I’d always felt a massive sense of achievement when I finally got my free fuel home…but I wasn’t about to admit that to my tormentor, it was my desire to guilt him out! “Oh yeah,” I continued moaning sarcastically, “the good old days…I’d forgotten how exhilarating they were! And add to that the fact that for a long time I didn’t have a washing machine, everything had to be washed in the sink, sheets and heavy stuff I would trample in the bath. And drying stuff from soaking wet was an out and out nightmare…Then,” I cast him a disgusted look, “I had to perpetually listen to that pathetic gob shite Gilbert who was cosily holed up in a cottage that had solid stone walls a foot thick, ranting and raving, more often than not in public, about how I had all the mod cons and a lovely house while he’d come out of the marriage with fuck all!”
“Didn’t you tell him how hard life was for you and the children?”
“Yeah, I mentioned it once, in response to him moaning about how badly off he was, I was trying to show him that he wasn’t the only one who was struggling. But if you knew Gilbert you’d understand it wasn’t worth the hassle. He twisted everything to his own ends. All I got was…‘don’t you start whining to me about how bad your life is, it was you who got rid of me remember…‘, that was accompanied by a jabbing finger in my chest as he began to rant and rave about how I ditched him for no reason at all, he’d been a good husband to me, he’d given me every penny he earned, he’d put me up on a pedestal yet still I’d not been satisfied, I’d divorced him for reasons known only to myself, apparently, so if I were suffering hardship I’d brought it all on myself! You just couldn’t argue with the man, it was pointless even trying. So I wasn‘t about to prolong the episode, adding fuel to his already raging fire by pointing out the fact that I wasn’t complaining, I was merely attempting to show him that some of us just quietly got on with it without constantly bewailing our situation and bringing others down with us.”
“It must have been very frustrating, why did you put up with it?”
“In a nutshell…for the kids. I wanted them to see a supportive family around them, not one that was constantly argueing…and besides, compared to actually having to share a roof with the bloke, having him at arms length was a piece of cake, I had the option of just walking away, which I did frequently.”
I was growing tired of this wallowing in self pity lark, I wasn’t very good at it. I’ve never been one for inflicting my woes on others, any crying I’ve done has always been in the privacy of my own company. I’d wanted to make McGivitup feel guilty about denying a bit of joy (as in wine), to someone who had suffered such hardship in life. But I couldn’t keep it up, it went against my entire nature. And besides, even though I’ve had rough patches in life, I’ve always had the ability to make the most of what I’ve had. Marriage to Gilbert was no bed of roses but I got through it by organising lots of parties. Adult parties, kids parties, games parties. I made my own fun. And when Gilbert had blitzed out with his infantile temper tantrums, I rarely failed to rise above it and see the complete silliness of his loss of self control. I couldn’t help but see the absurdity of the situation and it would only take a meeting of the eyes with one of the assembled company to leave me fighting to suppress the giggles. A fact that never failed to enrage Gilbert even more! But yes, I’ll happily talk about the traumas I’ve past through in life if there is a posotive in it, if someone else is going to benefit from the lesson of my experience…but pity, I’ve never wanted pity off anyone, yeah, I’ve felt sorry for myself from time to time, but I’ve never failed to cope with my lot and I wasn’t about to then either. I’d made the most of my life, I even enjoyed the challenge of coping with hardship, I was proud of my survival skills. But I wasn’t about to admit that fact to the doc! So, with that new determined frame of mind I leapt on my bike.
“Come on,” I said, “let’s get on with this ride.” I was still muzzy minded but I ignored it and put the little energy I possessed into peddling.
Half a mile up the track it was rough riding, potholes everywhere. My concentration was waning, I was on automatic pilot, pushing the peddles was as much output as I could manage. It was then I hit a pothole, my bike stopped dead and I went flying off it, before proceeding to slid along the clinker that was the disused railway line, sustaining road rash down one side of my body. I was okay, but for that moment in time I couldn’t be arsed to move. I just lay there, heaving the odd moan as the pain from the road rash began to kick in. The doc was at my side in seconds, checking out my pulse and urging me to speak. I just lay there inert, I needed a few moments to get my head together. Then I heard a commotion going on around me. Bikes skidding to a halt…voices…lots of voices. I dazedly opened an eye to discover I was surrounded by what appeared to be a proffessional riding squad. The next thing I knew someone was emptying the contents of a hip flask down my throat. It was rum, pure unadulterated rum!
“Thank you God!” I grinned, as I still lay inert but feeling as if I was about to make a miraculous recovery.
“No love, I’m not God…your not dead yet!” The stranger smiled down at me.
“Maybe not,” I beamed up at him, “but you’ve just put me in heaven!” I made meaningful eye contact with McGivitup. “This man is an angel direct from God sent to minister the medicine.”
The stranger laughed, “it’s not medicine love…it’s rum.”
“Yeah I know.” I inanely grinned up at my saviour.
McGivitup looked mortified but I suddenly felt alive again. I picked myself up off the ground and the strangers kindly washed all the grit out of my wounds with their water bottles before smearing them with antiseptic cream. I thanked them profusely before they continued on their journey.
I must have looked a sorry sight with half my face and the length of one arm glowing red, smeared with white cream and spotting blood, the same showing through a hole ripped in the knee of my black trackie bottoms. The doc thought we should head for home but I refused. There was a hotel where we could get a cup of tea not half a mile away, I argued. And thus we continued our journey, with me actually smiling.
The hotel was perched on the outer most point of the southern side of the bay, the view from the bar come tea room was out of this world, it was spectacular. We took a table near the window where we could soak in the view.
“Aw Connie,” a tall, dark and handsome waiter dressed in black trousers, waistcoat and white shirt, made his way towards us, “dahr-ling…you are in the wars…whatever have you done?”
“I had an argument with the railway track… the railway track won!” I grinned at him, then added, “I forgot you worked here…must be three years now? I thought you’d have been sacked way back!”
“No, I’m indispensable in this place, they adore me dahr-ling. But enough of me, let nephew Deni have a look at your wounds,” he grabbed my arm and turned my head to get a better view, “shall I dress them for you sweetheart, they’re looking awfully angry?” There was no mistaking his sexual orientation.
“Yeah,” I admitted, “it is beginning to throb a bit.”
Deni eyed McGivitup and whispered conspiratorially, “yes, so am I!”
I let out a laugh as the doc flushed.
“Stop being naughty Deni,” I chastised, “and it’s very kind of you but I’m fine thanks…although I could murder a cup of coffee.”
He looked at me with the shocked look that only a gay man can produce, “but you don’t drink coffee!” It was as if I were breaking a major taboo.
“Well I just fancy one now okay?” I looked him in the eye attempting to project my thoughts.
“Oh right…” he eyed me, doing his best to read what was on my mind, as he scribbled in his notepad, “and what would your friend like?” He asked turning to the doc. Before McGivitup had the chance to answer, he turned back to me and said, “does The Top Dog know about him?”
“Of course,” I mischievously smiled.
“Because if he doesn’t I’ll soon find out you know.”
“I’ll have a whiskey please.” The doc interrupted.
“He’s Scottish…” Deni minced, doing a peculiar little dance, aiming his whispers at me, “I just love Scottish men, its those kilts and sporons that do it for me.”
“Will you stop trying to embarrass Dr McGivitup.” I giggled, knowing that Deni enjoyed nothing more than winding straight men up.
“Doctor… did you say doctor?” He looked from one to the other of us, over gesticulating, “he can examine my credentials any time he wants!”
“Just go and get the bloody drinks will you nancy boy.”
He flounced his way across the room seemingly offended. Although I knew him well enough to know it was all show.
“Don’t take any notice of him,” I assured McGivitup, “he’s only winding you up, he’s got a boyfriend.”
“A relative of yours is he?” The doc asked.
“His mother is a friend of mine, he referred to me as aunty Connie when he was a kid, I’ve known him since he was about thirteen. He’s a good lad…hilarious company.”
Deni returned with the drinks, placing them before us. “A little birdie told me that your Jah has been suspended from school?” He addressed me.
I smilingly shook my head as the docs eyes focussed on me waiting for my response.
“Well your little birdie has wildly exaggerated the facts…again.” I grinned at him.
“So what are the facts?” He liked his gossip did Deni.
“Well it all began when Mini Me caught some sort of virus…”
“Oh here we go,” Deni did the gay hand thing to McGivitup, “our Connie always has to go round the houses when she tells a story, she can never get straight to the point.”
“And I never will if you don’t gap it!”
“Oh…alright dahr-ling, whatever you say.”
“Anyway, Mini Me was off school with this sickness bug. Then, before she was well enough to return, Jah went down with it as well. Mini Me became bored and Jah was to sick to fight her off, so after the pair of them had been ensconced in his bedroom all one afternoon, Jah emerged with a head full of tiny plaits in his hair…Mini Me had been practicing her hair dressing skills on him. Strangely enough he liked the look and insisted she left the masses of tiny plaits in so that he could show them off to his mates at school. I wasn’t sure he was thinking straight. What would the kids at school make of it? I asked him. Would they tease, bully or abuse him? He insisted not. So what about the teachers? Asked I. But did he listen? No he did not. He was determined to show off his new look. It turned out his mates thought he was ultra cool. And the school staff noticed…they couldn’t bloody fail to…but chose to ignore his first bad hair day.”
“So what has all this got to do with him getting suspended?” Deni impatiently wanted to know.
“He wasn’t suspended and if only you’d button your phizog you might find out!”
He slapped his own hand dramatically. “I consider myself to be suitably chastised.”
“Jah’s birthday was looming, it was just before the summer holidays when he spotted someone sporting dread locks made out of rags entwined in their hair…so guess what Jah wanted for his birthday?”
Deni turned to McGivitup, “I tell you doc, madcapery runs in her family…is it any wonder it gallops when it gets to the kids?”
I shot him a withering look. “Anyway, Sparah just happened to know someone who did that sort of thing…”
“Sparah would.” Deni interrupted.
“so, she paid for him to have his hair done by way of a birthday present. So off they went. He arrived back home with startling blue, luminous, wool dread locks plaited into his hair, they stretched right down his back!” I was gesticulating, “you certainly couldn’t miss him in the dark! Poor kid, he couldn’t sleep properly because they pulled at his scalp all night long…but would he take them out? No he would not…he loved his dread locks, even though they drove him mad with there constant itching. His skull cap ended up red raw from all the scratching he did. But his mates thought he was the bravest of the brave for being so different …his bad hair days gave him street cred. So when it came to going back to school, he refused point blank to take them out. He wanted to give it a try at the very least. He’d been in school for the whole of five minutes when the phone call came, The Top Dog took it. Jah’s hair was totally unacceptable for his year group, so he had been removed from class and been placed with the sixth formers for the rest of the day. He wouldn’t be accepted back into school until the hair extensions were removed. And didn’t we think that his hair was unsuitable for school? ’Well no not really,’ The Top Dog had said. They didn’t expect that! Later that day, when the schools had kicked out, Lil Sis rang me. Apparently it was all round town about Jah’s hair, her lads told her that text messages about his blue locks and subsequent removal from class, were flying around like wildfire. He was the gossip of the day. Anyway, that night I sat down and put pen to paper, expressing how I thought it was tantamount to discrimination the way that the sixth formers could wear their hair anyway they pleased, while those below them had to stick to a rigid dress code. I stated that I was proud of my son and I would rather he expressed himself creatively, than go out and vandelise public property, as was happening more and more frequently with bored teenagers, especially in town. I suggested that maybe if the kids were encouraged to be more creative in their appearance, then maybe it would take the onus off all the boredom driven delinquency?”
I took a slurp of my coffee…and God bless Deni, he’d managed to read my mind, it was laced with rum! I nodded him the wink.
“I remembered you liked the Irish.” He said, causing a mystified look to cross the docs face, as he wondered what had prompted that statement. “So,” Deni continued, “presumably Jah got rid of the dreads and went back to school?”
“That’s about the long and the short of it.”
“And I bet they didn’t agree with your suggestion?”
“Na…they need to maintain disapline, apparently it can’t be maintained with blue hair.”
“You know,” Deni stated, dramatically thrusting his hand on his hip, “that’s typical of the whole attitude of that bloody town these days, the kids just aren’t listened to or catered for. All anybody seems to be interested in is cramming in as many tourists as they can, to make lots and lots of money…nobody gives a stuff about the kids anymore, as far as the planners are concerned the kids can go to hell. And they are… they are becoming hell bent on destruction…it’s their way of crying for help. But will the councils accept that the destructive attitude of those kids is all down to the negligence of the responsibility they hold towards catering for the kids needs? Not a cat in hells chance! How these people come by their jobs I’ll never know, they’re all short sighted fools lost in their quest for profit, profit, profit. And I wouldn’t care but it’s only the money people who benefit from the tourists anyway, the rest of us lowly folks who do all the graft have to survive on the minimum wage because the robbing buggers won’t pay any more for labour than they have to!”
I caught the docs eye and grinned, “who does he remind you of?”
“You.” The doc replied.
“Well,” Deni said, smiling at me, “I grew up listening to Connie pointing out all the injustices that go on under our very noses, so I’ve had a good teacher. I look out for these things now and speak up about them…” he gave the doc a look full of angst, “but it’s not easy being a disciple of Connie you know…sometimes I get into awful trouble!”
“Aw your not still refusing to serve people unless they say please are you?” I cut in.
He cast me a petulant glance. “Well if you can do it so can I…and I mean, people should have good manners, there’s no excuse for bad manners.”
“Yeah I know, I agree, but I nearly got duffed up for with-holding a drink from a pissed up bloke because he refused to say please.”
“Well I’ve lost five jobs because of it.” He huffed up, proud of being immovable from his stance. “That’s why I like working here, they pay a realistic wage and the customers are politeness itself.”
“And presumably they accept you for who you are?” The doc put in.
“Oh absolutely dahr-ling…I’m the in house eccentric, they pay me to camp it up. There are some customers who pay top dollars to have me as their personal valet. I’m an all round asset to this hotel.”
“Good,” I said holding out my cup and saucer and reaching for the docs empty glass, “you can go and refill these for us.”
Deni returned shortly afterwards, empty handed. “I’ve taken the liberty of setting you a table in the grounds. It’s so beautiful outside and the flowerbeds smell exquisite. But I’m afraid I shall have to dash my dahr-lings, my services are required elsewhere.”
I rose to give him a hug and a peck on the cheek. “Good to see you Deni,” I said, “You take care now, and be good.” I added as an after thought.
“Moi,” he pointed to himself, with an amazed expression, “be good! That’s asking an awful lot!”
“Well if you can’t be good, be careful.”
“Always dahr-ling.”
The doc stood to shake his hand, only Deni pulled him in and pecked his cheek. And with that he was off, flouncing his way towards the door while waving over his shoulder, “lovely to see you dahr-lings…my love to everyone, you take care now, see you soon.”
McGivitup and I made our way into the hotel grounds, where we found a beautifully set table, next to a fragrant flower bed, containing cucumber sandwiches, fancy cakes and our drinks. There was a reserved notice on it saying. For the pleasure of Connie and the doctor.
“Oh, isn’t he sweet?” I said to the doc, my mood noticeably improved from when we started out, even though I was a mess of cuts, bruises, and pulsating grazes. My couple of shots of rum had numbed me nicely and substantially raised my spirits. And with luck there was another one coming up with my Irish coffee.
“He most certainly is.” The doc replied handing me a little note from under his drink which said. On the house. Love from Deni.xxx.
Once we were seated I caught the doc scrutinizing me uneasyly. It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed him observing me thus. In fact, I’d seen him doing it several times since I came off my bike.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” I challenged him.
“Well that cyclist gave you neat rum…the Indoramin that your taking specifically states that it hasn’t to be mixed with alcohol. I’m just a little concerned.”
I laughed out loud. “Aw chill doc,” my tongue developed a life of its own, “it’s written…they are the ones who can take of the poisons and be in no wise harmed by them.”
He appeared un-nerved. I picked up on his vibe.
“Sorry about that doc, I don’t know where that came from…well yeah, I do,” I lifted my eyes heavenwards, “I suppose it’s what you might call, talking in tongues.”
“Just don’t be over confident Constantine…” He caught the Biblical drift, “your a danger unto yourself.”
Whoops!
And there was another Irish coffee just waiting to be relished. I took a sedate sip…ahhh, pure nectar, a gift from God.
We ate our sandwiches in silence, savouring the relaxed atmosphere and the congenial surroundings.
Once our repast was past, McGivitup asked, “so come on, out with it, what occured in your life that has you convinced it’s your duty to save the world?”
“Well,” I began, attempting to focus my thoughts, “after starting off small, feeling the way so to speak, writing to magazines, newspapers, politicians, the Magog Hag and Prince Charles. The issues I raised were many and varied. Obviously, after having passed through the divorce courts, I was concerned that the system only ever drove a deeper wedge between already warring couples, when the focus should be on helping them to work together for the continued security of their children. The sheer lack of wisdom from the law makers and the out and out greed of the lawyers has effectively robbed thousands and thousands of children of their fathers. And they wonder why the cities are becoming lawless no go areas. The kids of this generation have been badly let down by the law makers and now these authorities are reaping the rewards of their incompetence… But I also got a bee in my bonnet about the benefit system. I was willing to work…and I did work, I worked bloody hard, forever increasing my work load in an attempt to better our financial situation. But did I benefit from it? Not a lot! I worked every morning for nine months of the year to begin with, I later took on other jobs. I was allowed to keep the first five pounds I earned and half of anything above five pounds, up to twelve pounds. So, I could work for thirty hours a week on three pounds an hour and only be able to keep twelve pounds of it, the rest was deducted from my benefit! There was so little encouragement to be self sufficient. Then the three months that this place shut down for the winter, I had to survive on the pittance that was social security. Madam Thatcher and her ruinous cohorts received many a missive from me.”
With that I suddenly remembered I’d brought something for the docs scrutiny, I began rummaging through my rucksack, I extracted a bundle of papers.
“Here you go,” I said handing them to him, “these are copies of a few letters I’ve sent to many and varied places in the past, they will give you an idea of the sort of thing I’ve been putting out over the years.”
He opened the first and began reading.
“I sent one copy of that to Thatcher and another to The Prince of Wales.”
It read.
‘I am a single parent of two children, having been divorced for four years. During the course of my life I have experienced many trials and tribulations. The trials coming mostly from the ridiculously outdated system and laws we are forced to abide by. The tribulations have come to me through sheer force of will and hard work. In other words, fighting for what I believe in.
Sadly, when parents are divorcing, they meet with complex and confusing legal procedures on top of all their other problems. This legal system creates and increases bitterness between those involved, inevitably leading to even deeper rifts in relationships. Unfortunately, it is often the innocent victims, the children, who take the backlash this system provokes. They become mere tools of the war between feuding parents.
My own divorce was extremely harrowing for everyone involved. Although we had agreed to part amicably, we were never-the-less, subjected to all the negative emotions which the divorcing system incites. Fortunately, with no help, only hindrance from a society which claims to be caring, we have managed to rise above and overcome the many problems which were thrown at us. Today, my ex-husband, his common-law-wife, myself and our children are reaping the rewards of our earlier efforts. We are enjoying a caring, sharing family atmosphere between two homes. Our children are extremely happy, outgoing well balanced youngsters who look to the future with confidence. We have in other words, built our own very special heaven on earth.
You would imagine that after achieving all this good fortune out of a lot of bitterness and hardship, that I would be happy and content with life? Sadly this isn’t the case. Although I am increasingly more and more overwhelmed by the sheer power of love that is generated within my own personal family life, I still worry constantly about this world into which I am eventually going to have to surrender my children.
We are, and in we, I also refer to my ex-husbands common-law-wife, as she has become an integral part of our lives whom we all love and respect, bringing our children up to be all that is good. What’s more, it’s working. We have two children of whom the three of us are extremely proud.
I ask you this though, are we doing the right thing? We are instilling in our children a desire to see all the many wonders of the world. A desire to discover and learn from all the many cultures our world breeds. We want them to be allowed to see and delight and share and wonder and perhaps even add to the progression of our many and varied peoples. Will they be given the chance to do this or will civilization be put back into the dark ages once again when the bomb drops?
It terrifies me when I hear of all the intolerance, the riots, the many and varying tensions between nations, the way the earth is being ravaged for profit, the child abuse, the child neglect, the muggings, et-cetera, it forces me to realise that we are heading towards the apocalypse faster than ever before! Yet what I find even more intolerable is the fact that things could be changed. There is massive room for improvement, if only we would knuckle under and do it. Instead of spending money on things which are creating the violence, spend it on things which will alleviate it. There are many, many ways to do this which could be put into action now!
What we have to do is concentrate all our efforts towards the children of this world. This is of vital importance as they are after all, our next generation. In order to do this we must bring the community spirit back to life. Perhaps if young couples who found themselves living in poverty, with no future prospects and young families to bring up, had friendly neighbours to help ease the stresses and strains, then perhaps we would begin to see a drop in child abuse and neglect.
As a result of poverty, loneliness and sheer boredom, babies which began as dream for the future, something a couple could call their own, a new life which they can love and nurture, fast becomes a burden, a suppressor of freedom. In other words, this couple have got themselves into a situation whereby they simply cannot cope. That’s when the aggression starts being focused on the child. It’s the child’s fault they never have any money. They’ll never get out of the squalor while that things eating all their money! They can’t go out because they don’t know anyone who would baby-sit. That’s when they begin stealing a few hours and leaving baby uncared for! Then slowly but surely, this child becomes just another statistic. It might get battered about a bit, a few broken bones, a fractured skull or two…but it will probably survive, or will it? Who cares anyway? I DO! But it’s just something else that is being ignored and swept under the carpet!
My heart bleeds for children like this. It infuriates me to realise that all it would take would be an increased awareness for the need of community spirit. If only we could become more friendly and acceptable towards one another, then everyone would benefit. If we began helping one another then we could reduce child abuse and loneliness. The elderly could teach the young how to look on their child as the gift from God it really is. They could help out baby sitting. The elderly lived through the last depression, they could teach the young all the skills they used to make life more acceptable. An elderly persons gift to the young could be immense indeed if only society would breed the conditions needed for this bond to be formed.
Another aspect of our society which has a great deal of room for improvement is the prison system. We are spending a fortune on establishments which are badly run and overcrowded. The inmates get no training as to how to deal withy their problems. More often than not they come out worse than they went in. Invariably unleashing yet more violence onto our streets.
Wouldn’t we be better employed using the petty offenders to work for us instead of against us? Couldn’t we sentence them to help the aid agencies throughout the world, teaching them how to help the real casualties of this life? Not only would they be assisting civilization as a whole, it’s my guess that they would come back much richer people. They would witness real suffering and depravation first hand, it would make them realise how petty their own problems really are in comparison. Perhaps it might even give them the incentive to come home and do something positive about the problems in our own society.
Unemployment is another massive problem. Boredom is a terrible disease indeed, most especially for a man. Not only is his whole role in life being undermined, but he also has an awful lot of time to dwell on the fact. This is where drink and drugs come into their own, they are a very good means of forgetting. If the unemployment and boredom amongst the youth were to be diminished, so would the biggest part of the drink and drugs epidemic. Instead of drawing unemployment benefit for nothing, couldn’t these men be given an added bonus and encouraged to help in the building of a caring, sharing society? There are any number of ideas which could be put into operation to help ease the strains of life. Activity centres for the young, particularly the teenagers whose present lack of guidance will lead to massive problems for the future. The elderly are sadly neglected in this day and age as well, it wouldn’t take a great deal of effort to include them in community gatherings. Any amount of schemes could be launched at a minimum of expense, which would not only serve to bring our communities back together again, they would also give any amount of unemployed people a reason in life again. It would give them a goal to aim for, it would restore their faith. Plus, the youngsters who are presently making a nuisance of themselves on the streets, because they can’t afford to pay the price for what little entertainment there is on offer, will begin to thrive again.
The British have always been an inventive race and I’m confident that if people are given the correct incentives, then we really could become world leaders once again. We are capable of putting the GREAT back into Britain. So let’s do it. Now!
For my own part, I would very much like to see every divorcing couple given the opportunity to enjoy the ideal my own family has been lucky enough to find. Sadly, as the law stands now, this is almost impossible.
I strongly believe that if the government were to introduce a system whereby divorcing couples were encouraged to part amicably, it would ultimately result in continued family harmony for any children involved. My research into this area has uncovered the fact that there are alternatives available, plus, these alternatives have been proved to work. A study of the Bristol Courts Family Conciliation Scheme found that the family conciliation service reduced bitterness and made separating couples more ready to honour access and custody arrangements which they have made. However, these services are only available in limited areas. Why? I especially ask why as further research has shown me that family conciliation has not only been highly successful, but is also cheaper than legal aid for the government to run! I am doing my utmost to campaign in order to see that this valuable service is given the resources it so desperately needs to operate, what channels would you advise me to take in order to achieve this goal?
Over the coming weeks I shall be communicating with various one parent family organisations throughout the nation in an attempt to have them set up voluntary schemes whereby they seek out and offer friendship and understanding, plus of course, practical advice, to newly divorced families, whose traumas for that first year alone are great indeed. Obviously, being a lone parent myself, with, as you well know, very limited resources, this will no doubt prove to be an expensive and time consuming project, but as long as the end results prove to be satisfactory, which I’m sure they will eventually, then it will all be worth it.
I love my children and I want them to have a future, a good future. If changes aren’t made then I believe that the future of our children is in very serious jeopardy.
So please Mrs Thatcher, I implore you, let us make changes and make them now.
So please Your Royal Highness, I implore you, help us your people to make the desired changes. Show us that you are willing to assist worthy causes which are fought in a peaceful manner, i.e. through all the correct channels which do not include any form of violence. Your people need a strong ruler more than ever before. You are capable of swinging the balance, so please, help us to restore peace and harmony into our society once again.

When he looked up after finishing my missive I said with a grin. “I know, don’t tell me…I tend to babble on!”
“Quite the reverse,” he replied, “you raise some very serious issues. Although, to play the devils advocate, I doubt very much if the aid agencies would be equipped to deal with young offenders.”
“Of course I realise that…and at the time of writing that letter, I was very idealistic…it was one of my first efforts at questioning serious issues. But I still believe that the basic premise is workable and it would do a damn sight more good than simply banging them up with hard core criminals. That path only leads to deepening their resentment against a society they already feel has abandoned them. Maybe it’s time the army moved with the times and trained one or two regiments to say, give the wayward kids, who at the end of the day are guilty of little more than neglect, a couple of weeks boot camp style to instil discipline, before being accompanied by said army to work along side the aid agencies doing something useful.”
“If only.” He said as he began scanning another one of my missives. I sneaked a peak to see which one he’d chosen.
The doc was already scrutinising another letter.
This one read.

From the land of the impending invasion of Yanks in their quest for world domination with their Son of Star Wars!
Dear Matthew Norman,
with regard to your article, ‘Men of God hell bent on destruction’, 10th January, 2003.
Matthew, I have to tell you, you have grievously insulted God!
How?
By inferring that He is a friend to Bush and Blair and their ilk! I have been instructed to slap your wrists and tell you NOT to do it again, not even in jest! The Almighty One is not amused. He despises the bastard sons of Satan who ride rough shod over His once beautiful creation. And that is without mentioning His innocent children who have been mercilessly murdered by these tyrants actions and judgements!
Personally I think He’s got a cob on because He’s beginning to have serious doubts about this free will malarkey He gave so recklessly! I mean, it doesn’t look good on the old Holy c.v. does it? The Oh So Wise Deity has cocked up big time!
Ouch!
Okay!
I’ve just been told to stop prattling and get on with it! God I tell you, He’s always on my case! It’s normally my nicotine and drinking habits He bangs on about…but hell fire, if that’s what it does for George W Bush, I’m questioning His Almighty wisdom!
Ow!
Yeah okay!
I am commanded to tell you, God is brighter than you mere mortals give Him credit for. You see, He is, in all His Mighty wisdom, allowing the ship of fools to dig their own graves. And they aren’t ordinary graves at that. Oh no, the graves they are digging for themselves are their eternal ones! You see, this is the age of the Final Judgement. The one where the good go to eternal life and the wicked get blotted out of the human race! It could be called Gods last laugh. I mean, George W thinks he is God. To find out what God thinks about Bush boy with his plans for world domination through his planned Son of Star Wars, read, Thessalonians 2 chapter 2.
And when the scales are set in balance for George W and those of his ilk, which will prove heavier for each, the good deeds or the evil ones?
And wait till you find out what happens when they eventually pop their clogs and go to meet their maker. Oh boy has The Mighty One got a sense of humour! For us goodies that is…not the evil bastard sons of Satan. Oh boy should they be back tracking big time! If they want to try to save their eternal souls they should begin making amends, rapid like! Just thank your own good sense your not in their socks! And if you have been naughty, I would strongly recommend you begin righting your wrongs.
But for now, this is Gods mouth piece signing off.

McGivitup chuckled all the way through that one.
“What a sense of humour you have Constantine.” He said as he picked out another letter to peruse.

An Open Letter To Tony Blair.
Well Mr Blair, here we are brinking on the edge of time. The apocalypse, to be unleashed by yourself and Mr Bush, just around the corner. The gates of hell being ratcheted open by two men who call themselves ‘Christians?’!
Tell me Mr Blair, do you ever read your Bible? If so you must know that Christians do NOT do attack. It’s the other one that’s pulling those strings, the Satanic one!
I have to say though, I do understand that but for you, the mad dog of the West would have done something extremely rash by now, you have been a restraining influence. And that has been for the good.
But Tony, have you read Thessalonians 2 chapter 2?
‘He that opposeth and exalteth himself against all that is called God or that is worshipped; so that he sitteth in the temple of God, setting himself forth as God.’
Doesn’t that put you in mind of someone close to you?
Is not the Bush administration setting itself forth as God? Are they not out to secure world domination with their weapons of mass destruction and ‘The Son of Star Wars’ scheme they are setting up to rule from the very heavens?
You’ve done good so far Tony. I would not like to see you being blotted out of Gods book of eternal life for being pressured into following the son of perdition down the wrong path.
I assure you, we are living in the age of ‘The Final Judgement’. It is written. And we all know what happens at the end of the age don’t we? Life eternal or death eternal! Is your soul in dire danger of erasure? Do the right thing Tony.
I know you like music. Well listen to Hawkwind’s Damnation Ally to see where Bush is taking America.
What about the Mad Ass Moron of the Middle East and his weapons of mass destruction? I hear you saying.
Well, what about those marvellous words uttered by Tony Benn, calling for inspectors to be present in ‘every’ nation, disarming them ‘all’, of weapons of mass destruction?
We don’t need war to rid the world of these hideous instruments of death, torture and despair. We need organization and commitment. Commitment to the right path, the Godly path.
As for bringing democracy to these nations. Shouldn’t you get your own house in order before you begin preaching to others?
If they choose to live in the chains of man made enslavement, that is their choice. We have no business telling them how they should live.
If you really want to teach them how to live, then teach by example.
You bang on about a free society Tony, but if it were truly free then everyone would be content, there would be no voices raised in anger at the injustice and unfairness of the system. And to be frank, if you weren’t so busy elsewhere, you would hear that the noise of dissent is positively deafening!
Think about what I’ve said. You must see that if you attack Iraq, other nations will eventually come together as one and cause the biggest divide this world has ever seen?
Do you want to be responsible for such a catastrophe, possibly inviting in the total and final annihilation of our beautiful little earth?
If you do attack Iraq and it all turns horribly pear shaped as I have no doubt it will, then you will truly deserve to lose your place in Gods book of eternal life.
The choice is yours.
Armageddon starts here Mr Blair. As yet you are on the wrong path…sort it.
Yours peacefully, blah.

“I’ll give you one thing,” the doc glanced at me, “your certainly consistent in your message. If I didn’t know you better I’d have you down as a hard core Bible basher preaching from a pulpit on high!”
“Higher than you know.” I put on ominously.
He glanced at me quizzically before reaching for the final missive I’d handed him.

An open letter to George W Bush from a nobody.
Dear George W Bush,
as a humane person, I feel desperately for the plight of the families throughout the world who are the victims of violence and wanton destruction.
And tragic though the attack on America has been, are you justified in taking the steps you are about to take?
You know what they say, one mans terrorist is another mans freedom fighter? One mans saviour is another mans devil? It all depends on which side you are viewing from.
What this crisis needs is to be solved by wisdom, not fury.
You say this will be a war of good versus evil. So who is good and who is evil? We know you think America is the perfect God fearing beacon of civility. But who recently put the wants, and that is the wants not the needs, of the American people above the environment? Our world dies screaming and we are the parasites murdering our mother, yet you refused to even consider moderating your countries vast consumption of the worlds resources. You are not without sin Mr Bush.
However, I doubt very much that it was environmental concerns that motivated the suicide hijackers. But something did. Because one thing is certain, in their minds eyes, their actions were perfectly justified. That level of hatred hasn’t evolved out of thin air. I believe you know exactly what drove these people to attack.
At this moment in time, pride is America’s worst enemy. You refuse to admit that your governments actions might possibly have driven these fanatics to commit this atrocity. Instead, you choose to blow the situation out of all proportion and become the bogeyman of everyone’s nightmares, by whipping up sabre rattling venomous talk of revenge and vengeance. You are taking advantage of your peoples desperate grief, suffering and natural anger by inciting the most base and contemptible of human emotions from a tormented people whose present pain leaves them open to suggestion.
You call yourself civilised, claiming your quest is only to see justice done for this attack on America. Is it justified that Pakistan has already been destabilised? An already impoverished nation bullied into compliance by the super power! What did they do wrong? Did they attack America? No! So what is justified about involving blameless people in your war? Do the millions of Pakistani people deserve the cataclysm you are about to unleash on them? Do you even care Mr Bush?
And what of those souls who died on that fateful day in New York, would they thank you for casting ruin on an innocent nation in their names? Do you suppose they will look down from heaven and sanctify the catastrophe you are about to unleash on the entire populated world? Because be in no doubt Mr Bush, the evil you are about to respond to and tap into WILL spread like wildfire.
You call on God to protect America. Sorry. I think you’ve mistaken Him for someone else, God doesn’t do war, it’s Satan your inviting in!
The word apocalypse has been voiced far and wide since that fateful day in America. So ask yourself this, what comes along side the apocalypse? I’ll tell you. A revelation of the end of the world. And indeed this is the beginning of the end of the world as we now know it, with its sickening wars, its greed, its corruption, its famines, its intolerance. The new world has been coming into being for some time now, only its not yet visible.
The big division needs to come first, sorting the wheat from the chaff.
The Taliban have stated that if America strikes them they shall respond with a Holy war. Wrong. They will retaliate, but it won’t be a jihad in the name of Islam. The Taliban are bestial, debased, tyrants who have made a mockery of the Prophet Mohammed’s teaching. Mohammed directed them to care for the orphans, the needy, the strangers. Yet they have created these very things with their systematic destruction of Afghanistan. The Prophet Mohammed is ashamed they call themselves the children of Islam. Allah is incandescent with rage at the treacherous barbarity they have inflicted on His children in His name.
However, it is my duty to God to issue The Final Warning to the world. And although it grieves me to say it, even the Taliban and their ilk are given a final chance to redeem their immortal souls before they stand before God for their final judgement.
And you may well mock Mr Bush, but your name is in dire danger of being wiped out the book of eternal life. As are all who use violence against their neighbours. It is time for the warring factions the world over, to stop and look inwards and cast out the demons that control them. Either that or lose their place in Gods book of life.
I do realise Mr Bush, that you will not heed my words. You shall pursue this folly.
Which is why I am calling on all the ordinary, decent people, the majority, who inhabit this world, to begin a real Holy war, a war whose only weapon is love.
There are millions upon millions of ordinary people whose only desire is to live in peace with their fellow man. These people feel powerless in the face of this adversity. I say to these people, you are not powerless, you are powerful. Extremely powerful. Which is why I would ask you all, no matter what creed, colour, or religion, it matters not whether you even believe in God…what matters is showing your fellow brothers and sisters in humanity the power of love. With attacks presently increasing on innocent Muslim’s, they will be feeling particularly vulnerable, I urge you good people, go and give them a hug, show them we the people do care.
I would also call on the army of good people to help in any way they are capable, Christian Aid to deal with the outpourings of refugees who are fleeing Afghanistan. They are going to need food and shelter and warm clothes. Can we show mercy to these poor people who have suffered enough already at the hands of the madmen?
Christian Aid has been ordered out of Afghanistan, so you might start by putting pressure on Tony Blair, insist that the war machine allows Christian Aid to deal with these dispossessed peoples in safety.
Well Mr Bush, I know that the ordinary people of our world will do all they can to help those less fortunate, but they would rather not have to pick up the pieces of your mess! So I shall ask you one final time, will you not listen to the prayers of the millions and stop this madness?
Let us pray.
Our father who art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Thy Kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Give us this day our daily bread
AND FORGIVE US OUR TRESPASSES AS WE FORGIVE THOSE THAT TRESPASS AGAINST US
BUT LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION BUT DELIVER US FROM EVIL
For thine is the Kingdom
The power and the glory
Forever and ever
Amen
Yours blah.

The doc looked at me levelly. “You never cease to amaze me Constantine.” Was all he managed to say.
“Well that is just a small sample of my outpourings over the years.” I stated. “You could probably fill a house with the reams of paperwork I’ve put out, on a damn sight more issues than are contained there.” I pointed.
“Did it ever get you anywhere?” The doc asked.
“Not at all. Although I did get a curt reply from some Downing Street lackey on behalf of Thatch and a rather nicer reply from Prince Charles encouraging me to keep up the good work. But apart from that, little or no feed back.”
“It must have been awfully frustrating, you must have felt you were wasting your time?”
“It was definitely frustrating…but a waste of time? Not really, you have to keep chipping away at these things…and besides, it was a learning experience, I was honing my skills as you might say. In those early days, I was also becoming involved with Action Aid and Friends of the Earth and such like, my knowledge of all the earth destroying things that go down in our world in the name of profit and that are actively encouraged by governments, was rapidly expanding. I recall just sitting quietly at home one night, being amazed that in such a short space of time I’d gone from being wrapped up in my own little bubble, lost in my own world, just struggling to get through each day. My interest in the outside world being zilch, because I was more concerned with surviving poverty and Gilbert to have either the time or the inclination to look outwards and then suddenly, once I was free from the ogre, this knowledge and information just came pouring in! I chased it granted. But it made me wonder I can tell you…I wondered with a big wonder, especially considering all that had gone before.”
“Yes,” the doc mused, “I can see what your driving at when you take into account your supposed visions.”
I raised a despairing eyebrow at him. He still wasn’t convinced they were for real.
“Although I can see why no one responded to you, you do come across as some sort of deranged ‘the end is nigh’ crackpot!”
“Cheers doc!”
“That’s not to say you don’t come across as being an intelligent, caring person, who seemingly knows your stuff, because you do. What sort of education did you have?” He enquired.
I sniggered. “I didn’t! Well apart from your basic state education of which I was an average student. I did go to college briefly to study catering…but it was very brief because I got pregnant. I had little interest in learning when I was young, I was more interested in living. Although having said that, I’ve always been an avid reader, I positively devour books, newspapers and magazines.”
“You will have been subliminally absorbing information for most of your life then?”
I didn’t expect the scientific McGivitup to go for anything like that! But he was probably right.
“All I know is that I became increasingly convinced that there was something otherworldly going down, something supernatural. And somehow I was a part of it…but why? For what? What was this big job I had to do for God? I hadn’t the faintest idea…but that was when I began actively searching. I read every book I could lay my hands on regarding the subject. I took to randomly opening the Bible from time to time, hoping to find answers to my questions, but found none…at least not then.” I added ominously. “I studied numerology and discovered that my birth date was twenty-three, a number that offers protection from those in high places. I also discerned, or should I say my mother discerned, that the number eight was predominant in my life, I was married at seventeen…add one and seven together you get eight, I split with Gilbert after eight years, I divorced at twenty-six…two and six equal eight, I was a single parent for eight years…my life has moved in eight year cycles. It’s fascinating stuff and that’s just scratching the surface. According to Dennis Wheatly, the predominant number of Christ was eight.” I nodded at him knowledgably. “But yeah, meanwhile life moved on.”
“Where did it move to?”
“Well, it was another twist of fate that put me onto a more serious path.” I cast my mind back. “It was one of those miserable, drizzly winter weekend afternoons, dark and dank. The kids were at Gilberts. Lil Sis and I were sat bored rigid, twiddling our thumbs, at my house, when Lil Sis began leafing through my newspaper …she came across a competition to win a weekend in New York with Steve Wright, then of radio one fame. As she was a compulsive competition enterer, who had not won one solitary thing, I snatched the paper off her and told her I’d show her how it was done! So, entry complete, I filled it in, in her name and telephone number, then posted it off. I promptly forgot about the whole thing. Then, about a week later, the phone rang, it was a hysterical Lil Sis. She was burbling and spluttering something about, ‘we’ve won…we’ve only gone and bloody won!’ ‘What on earth are you gabbling about woman, get a grip will you, won what?’ I asked her, having forgotten all about the entry. ‘New York…‘ she bellowed down the phone…‘we’ve won the trip to New York with Steve Wright!’ I thought she was winding me up at first, but she wasn’t…we were off to New York! And oh boy what a time we had! We were given an amount of spending money along with the trip, only we kept on running out! I swear we had no idea Robert Maxwell was dipping his sticky, grubby little fingers into the pension fund when we kept harassing our minder, a Mirror employee, to wire back to head office for more dosh…we thought we were just taking a stinking rich publishing mogul for a ride, we didn’t realise he was a bent crooked low life thief. But yeah, apart from spending Robert Maxwell all but bankrupt, we had a ball and Steve Wright went out of his way to make it really special for us, he’s a lovely bloke, a real natural, what you see is what you get with him. It was Steve who advised me to try professional writing to put my points across to a wide audience…he supplied me with loads of addresses and the BBC went on to prove to be a mine of free information and advice. So, when we got home, I started to wonder which way would be the best to put across the absolute shame that governments and multinationals etcetera, should feel for the way they ride rough shod over ordinary people and the earth in their quest for endless profit, profit, profit! Only first, thanks to something that was reported in the daily Mirror about us, I decided to practise my skills and have a bit of fun first. It was after we got back that I discovered there appeared to a bit of a war raging between the daily papers, namely The Mirror and The Sun. I decided to add my two penneth worth.” I handed him another letter copy.
He read.

Dear Kelvin,
even though I know your all going to rot in hell for the way you ride rough shod over the earths vital resources to print trash while the world dies screaming, I can’t help but respond to the war that is raging between yourself and mighty mouth Maxwell.
That old moron has the brass necked bottle to lay claim to fame by reckoning that his paper stands for truth?
What?
Did I read correctly?
He’s a lying old git, and what’s more I can prove it!
Just pin your lugs back Kelv my old son and prepare to redeem your soul by standing for some REAL truth (just for a change!)
Firstly there was the time my sister won, via the Mirror, a holiday in New York. She took me along. Now while we were away, issue Saturday, 8th March, 1986, music page, told the nation that we met up with one of the Duranies, John Taylor, at Kennedy airport!
It was a downright lie printed while our backs were turned! And I mean, we ought to know, we were there at the time! But did they apologise for this slur on our characters? Did they hell as like! !
Then there was the time old mighty mouth offered vast amounts of dosh to anyone who could get the mad Mullah, Ayatollah Khomenei, to recite the two commandments, Thou Shalt Not Kill and Thou Shalt Not Bear False Witness.
Now I may well be a country bumpkin…but I was there, I was willing to stand up and be counted. I offered to go for it. But old mighty mouth Maxwell proved false, he couldn’t or wouldn’t put his money where his mouth was!
And yet again, there are all his claims that his paper is a ‘peoples paper’, one that cares about and takes up the issues of the people?
Does he bollocks!
This person wrote to his paper with what this person views to be a serious complaint against the sickness of our glorious leaders system. Sorry, I know Mr Maxwell informs us that Thatch is beloved to you, your among the few son. But, this person hasn’t even had the courtesy of a reply from the old git faced bastards oh so caring waste of our tree populations lying spew! This person finds herself seriously pissed off with Mr Look at Me I’m So Wonderful Maxwell’s lies! From what this person can see, he cares about little more than his own bigoted self esteem!
So there you have it, just thought you ought to know.
Yours blah.

McGivitup was chuckling. “Did you really offer to attempt to get the Ayatollah to recite the commandments?”
“Too right I did…but as ever, I didn’t even get a reply to my letter! I decided the best way to educate and thereby rally the masses to put pressure on these legal looters and robbers would be situation comedy. So, considering my own life at that time was a complete and utter farce, I had plenty of material to go at, in which I could house some serious issues.”
“Why was your life a farce…“ McGivitup quizzed, appearing puzzled, “I thought you had gained control of and overcome all your difficulties?”
“Oh I had, as regarded family stability and financial security…we never had much money but while I was in control, it went a lot further. No, the farce came in, in that Isaac, who as you know, had been a constant in my life since getting divorced, was all but living at our house when he wasn’t at sea.”
“Ah yes,” McGivitup interrupted, “you mentioned that Isaac made a come back into your life after your mother died…didn’t you say the relationship became intimate?”
He’d evidently had too many whiskies on the night of the wedding, his memory was going!
“Well it wasn’t intimate as in lovey dovey, kissy kissy, there was none of that malarkey…it was more two sexually frustrated pals occasionally eyeing each other up to find a temporary release from sexual frustration…” then I added as an after thought, “well sometimes we did.”
The doc raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Well he was your typical drunken sailor,” I continued, “while he was on shore leave he was perpetually pissed…brewers droop saw to it that something frequently didn’t raise its ugly head!”
McGivitup roared with laughter.
“And then the twat had the nerve to incessantly bend my ear, bewailing his misfortune with the opposite sex! I gave it to him straight, as mates do. Quite apart from the fact that he was often unable to rise to the occasion, as it were. What nice girl would want a relationship with a self-centred drunken git like him? A prize prat who would only drag himself away from the bar when he fancied a shag! Was there any wonder the fairer sex predictably ditched him?”
McGivitup shook his head while grinning inanely, like a schoolboy hearing titillating stories for the first time.
“But, he was my little bro…I always felt he was more my brother than Gilbert’s…” I glanced at the doc, “and somebody had to look out for him, so, I fed him…he wouldn’t have eaten otherwise! He hung out with us when he had nothing better to do and he frequently came round late at night, after the pubs shut, pissed as a rat, clutching a bottle of rum! No wonder I was permanently knackered…I had to be at work for eight thirty in the morning in those days.” I veered off on a tangent. “But yeah, good old rum eh…my downfall!” The doc raised a questioning eyebrow. “Those bleedin’ Jamaican gits, they have a lot to answer too and that’s for sure! God alone knows how I miss and yearn for that stuff.” I looked the doc in the eye, somewhat accusingly, even though I was secretly nursing a rum laced coffee. “Yeah, Jamaicans… they’ve got some bottle they have, apart from the rum that is!” I began to gesticulate my rant with flailing arms. I think I was pissed after my week of abstinence. “They export to us this wickedly, wonderful, totally more-ish concoction that gets some of us into what you might call deep shit…I mean, I’m not known for my sins of the flesh for nothing you know! But that’s not the bone I want to pick…well not yet anyway. What I want to know is why do they feel the need to export all the Rasta fairies along with the stuff…is it an atonement for sin?” The doc was smiling, but with a puzzled appearance. He probably hadn’t a clue about the Rastafarian culture. “I mean, have you seen those guys?” He shook his head. “They’re a pack of nambie pambies…me, I’m a glutton and a drunk…or at least I would be if you and that heavy git upstairs,” I pointed heavenwards as I glowered at him, “weren’t constantly leaning on me! But those Rasta fairies, they don’t drink alcohol, they don’t eat meat, they don’t smoke…well not tobacco anyway! So what the fuck do they do?” I raised my hands wide in a questioning fashion, while the doc shook his head appearing to be slightly bewildered, “on second thoughts,” I ploughed on, “don’t answer that one, we’ve all witnessed what Bob Marley left behind thanks to the sins of his wandering willie…and what talented kids they are.” The doc obviously had no idea who Bob Marley was, “so it’s just as well that some glutton for punishment sucker with a git weirdo save the world concept died on a cross to save sinners like him!” I was on a roll, the words were slipping off my tongue as if by their own accord. “I am of course jesting…I love the Rastafarians, they are the 10,000 of Gods Holy ones as is written of in St Jude.” I nodded at him meaningfully. “But anyway, back to Jamaica…I hear tell they’ve got problems? Just like the rest of the developing world. All that Kenwhatsit fried crap, McArtery blocker and Cola shit! Do we really want to see the same old logos vending their obesity in every far flung corner of the planet?” I beseeched McGivitup, flinging my arms wide. “How boring would that be? All the deliciously exotic local produce being priced out of business by yank profiteers out to spread heart disease! The way I see it, in Jamaica they’ve got over fifty varieties of their own tropical fruits, so why the fuck do they need the Big Apple as well? They should just throw the bastards out! All they have to do is stop using the stuff and the merchants of greed, who are quite literally sucking poor farmers dry, will be off their islands in no time!”
“Now that makes sense.” The doc put in, albeit bemused at my rant. “I never allow my children near fast food and sugary drinks.”
“But anyway,” I continued, ignoring him, “back to the rum… you know what rum does for you don‘t you?” The doc shook his head. “It reaches the parts that only a man can penetrate…and when your man-less, well!” I shrugged my shoulders, giving him an expression that said… what can I say, it was out of my hands, it was the rum that did it! “There were times when Isaac didn’t make it back to his own bed!” I laughed out loud as I remembered. “You know, for years I called him a dildo…I hadn’t a clue what it meant, it just sounded good, like one of those Australian forms of verbal insult…I even used to bellow it down the street at him, like, ‘oi, dildo…your teas ready.’ Then one day I decided to look it up in the dictionary to see if it was a real word…it was indeed a real word and I discovered it meant, sex toy! A bloody sex toy I ask you! Fuck me sideways that‘s exactly what Isaac was, a sex toy!” McGivitup laughed out loud, as I continued. “But we used to have some real good laughs together. When he eventually became a captain, God alone knows how, I was forever having to bundle him into taxi’s when he turned up at mine completely off his face, declaring he had a ship to catch in some far flung corner of the country!
“So, what else did you get up to with Isaac?” McGivitup asked, “At least you seemed to have had fun with him.”
“Oh I did…and it was all very exciting at the time…no one knew what was going on with Isaac and me, it was our secret. And we intended keeping it that way because it was meaningless to both of us, it was just the odd sporadic pissed up shag between two desperados.”
“Didn’t anyone even suspect?” The doc cut in.
“No, we’d always been close, it was just assumed we were good mates who looked out for each other. And that’s exactly what we did, although I probably looked out for him more than he looked out for me! Having said that, I do recall one time I caught some sort of bug, I was really poorly for a couple of days, it took all my strength just to go to the loo! Isaac kept me and the kids fed while I was bed bound. And he was pretty good at keeping an endless flow of cheap baccy going as well…as for the rum, it flowed freely when Isaac was ashore. He used to occasionally bung me a bottle for services rendered…and that’s not what you think! The services I rendered were when he bought a house. I helped him lay new floors in the place, then I decorated it right through for him because he claimed I was better at it than he was. Once it was liveable, he let it out to tourists while he was working, so he paid me a few quid a week to do the cleaning in-between lets…and oh boy was I so under paid when it came to cleaning up after he’d been at home! It was a case of bottles, bottles, filter tips! And that’s without mentioning the state of the kitchen…even though I fed him at mine, he still managed to use every single utensil, that he failed to wash up!”
“It sounds like you never got a minute to yourself?” The doc added.
“Oh I didn’t, every spare moment I got saw me scribbling long into the night. The idea’s for my sit com were coming thick and fast. I was also getting a bee in my bonnet about giving up smoking…not only had I long wanted to, but I also felt it was integral to the story. My mother who had been a heavy smoker had managed to kick the habit and I felt she’d done it to show me that it could be done. It was all these things I planned on weaving into my work, along with the weird relationship I had with the invisible entity I was convinced was directing my life. I was burning the candle at both ends and in the middle. And somewhere I found the time to begin petitioning the council about the inadequate housing we were expected to survive in. I wrote several letters which I then went house to house with, to ask the other residents if they would like to sign, they all did. Now bear in mind, while all this was going on, I was working two, sometimes three shifts a day at the pub. I was in and out of Gilbert and Maggie’s like a yo-yo, dropping kids off or picking them up. To keep good relations with Gilbert and Maggie I often took up their offer to hang around for a drink in the pub…where Gilbert would invariably and loudly, bring up the bloody vasectomy! It was cringe making but I just had to rise above it for the sake of the relationship we’d built for the kids. These sessions usually degenerated into going back to their place for a smoke. By that time I hardly touched the stuff…after all, I didn’t need it anymore, I’d got Gilbert at a more manageable arms length…but, I saw nothing wrong with being sociable. I even found myself giving money to Gilbert, as my offering to the proceedings so to speak. Gilbert as ever, always had a house packed to the rafters with people. We shared some real good laughs. One or two of the straight people who observed our goings on asked what they put in the water in our parts! E’strange’D relationships such as ours were unheard of in those days…but our kids thrived, so we had the last laugh. But do you know..?” I looked the doc in the eye, “It was special. Despite all the heartache and bitterness that had gone before, we had managed to build something that was quite profound. I was proud of what we had achieved. I began to take both of them to my heart, in my own way I loved them.” I laughed. “That’s not to say I didn’t stop running round to her next door and taking the piss out of all their foibles, of which there were many…but in my heart I loved them for daring to be different and therefore giving two children the stability they might otherwise have lacked. So when they announced they were getting married, there was none more delighted than me. I duly received an invite…I joked that I would give Gilbert away if they so desired! Instead, always being a cake maker, I was requested to make the wedding cakes. One for the family celebrations and one for the alternative party. Naturally I was straight round to her next doors, to joke about how I might just spike the family cake with half an ounce of best hash, so that Gilberts folks could encounter a ’real’ religious experience!”
“You didn’t?” The doc was shocked.
“No I didn’t…but I did tell Gilbert that I’d done that with the alternative party cake…he had one slice and swore he was off his head! They must have been bloody good currents because I’d put naff all in that cake that wasn’t fruit cake mix! But it was hilarious seeing Gilbert take the bait!”
“Constantine, you are sooo naughty!”
“Yeah I know, I’m positively demonic …it was fun though. But on a more serious note, I knew Maggie was absolutely desperate for a baby…Gilberts whines about how he had had a vasectomy… for me… became ever more louder the closer he got to going for a reversal operation. It seemed appropriate for me to share a special moment with Maggie. So I needed to arranged a quiet meeting with Maggie. And I can tell you, that was not easy.”
The doc cast me a quizzical glimpse.
“Like I said before, Gilbert always had to be surrounded by a gang of like minded people, it was a rarity to call at their place and find no visitors. And by this point he had befriended a gang of hells angels from down south. He positively luxuriated in their presence…they made him feel big…but the lads from down south were a nice bunch. Some were extremely intelligent people, one had been a nuclear physicist, a drop out who refused to go against his own conscience. I admired them. They did have among their own the odd nutter but the wiser ones made sure any odd balls were kept under control…they had their own code of conduct and if any of their own over stepped the mark, they paid the price and were punished by their own. Yeah,” I gazed into the middle distance remembering things I hadn’t thought of for a very long time, “I kind of miss those boys…”
“Why what happened?” The curious one wanted to know.
“Oh I sort of alienated myself from them…but we’ll come to that soon enough.”
“Ah okay.” He begrudgingly accepted my delay in answering his question.
“But the lads weren’t by any means the only ones who passed in and out of Gilbert’s house. There was a character who had previously worked on Green-peace’s original Rainbow Warrior, who visited regularly. The kids absolutely adored him, he was always performing wacky stunts that never failed to have everyone convulsed with laughter.” Suddenly memories began flooding my mind and I giggled as I remembered. “Then there were the half a dozen or so faces that had been around from the early days. Roy an alcoholic, who was a complete and utter liability, still turned up at Gilbert’s from time to time. I had a soft spot for Roy. Probably because even though he had a drink problem, he was never-the-less a hard working lad who wasn’t afraid to tackle the establishment if he thought it was out of order…and it still made me laugh when I remembered the amount of scrapes I’d dragged him out of…” I laughed out loud, “or got into with him! In the early days, a crowd of us, including her next door and her bloke, got all dressed up to go for a night out. The night went well, we almost got thrown out of the pub for gambling on the hidden shelf under the table…but that was par for the course for us, we pretended to be playing for fun, while exchanging money under the table…I made a small fortune,” I grinned at McGivitup, “I’m good at cards. But the landlord cottoned on. Apparently you need a licence to gamble. Still, as the drink flowed and we all became merry, I got into what I considered was an intellectual discussion with Roy. I argued that Mars was the last planet that us humans had fucked up, claiming that the ancient earthly cave drawings that have been discovered of space craft were proof of it. Roy didn’t agree and tried to argue his point, but I was on a roll, I was like a dog with a bone, why, I wanted to know, did he suppose Mars was red? He didn’t give a flying fuck what colour it was, he just wanted me to shut up. The lady wasn’t for shutting. It was red, I persisted, because sick twats like our glorious leaders didn’t listen to the planets cry for help, they just went on and on raping, pillaging and lying waste to the orb that sustained their lives, until…Roy didn’t give a toss about until, he just wanted me out of his face. I was told if I didn’t gap it, I’d have his pint tipped over my head! Until, I continued regardless, the planet went out of control, the weather went ape-shit, it rumbled and it quaked, and just before all the human made nuclear shit went BANG, a handful of humans escaped in space ships while Mars took fire and blazed and smouldered for eons, leaving nothing but red ash that gave Mars the Red Planet label…that’s about when the pint was poured over my head!”
McGivitup chuckled. “It sounds to me as if you have been quite a forceful woman in your time?”
“I have that. But that wasn’t the end of the Roy story, not by a long chalk.”
“Why…did you throw a drink at him?”
“No, after the initial shock of him actually doing it, I laughed. What I did do was to warn the others that whatever they did they had to make sure Roy walked through my front door first. We were having a party at mine afterwards see…I used to love laying on a spread and then getting a bit of dancing going, partying it up. So anyway, me and her next door took off home, me dripping wet and sticky. Once we got back we found a plastic bucket and filled it with water before balancing it precariously over the front door. Roy walked in and he took the full force of a good soaking.” I laughed at the memory.
“So how did he take that?” The doc asked.
“Not very well it has to be said,” I giggled, “in fact, he hit the bloody roof. He flew at me swearing and cursing and grabbed hold of my hair. The rest of the lads piled in and man handled him off me as I ordered his eviction from the proceedings. I told him to come back when he’d found a sense of humour as the lads legged him out onto the street.” I giggled as I eyed the doc sheepishly, “he looked a pitiful sight, totally drenched and dejected…twenty minutes later he was back with his tail between his legs, full of profuse apologies.”
“Did you forgive him?”
“Yeah, he was my favourite dance partner in those days, he was always up for a good boogie, it was his redeeming feature as far as I was concerned, so we got down to some serious body bending. I’ll always think of Sly and the Family Stones song Dance to the Music as being mine and Roy’s, we worked a fair bit of alcohol off throwing ourselves around to that one.” I paused in reflection and felt a giggle rising. “Anyway,” I continued, “while the kids were constantly coming and going in-between mine and Gilbert’s, things occasionally got mixed up. Saladin turned up at home with a pair of Roy’s underpants…they’d obviously shared a room at Gilbert’s and they’d got mixed in with Sal’s laundry.” My eyes twinkled with mischief, “normal people would have sent them back…but I’m not normal.”
McGivitup was grinning. “I’m beginning to discover your a bit of a minx. What did you do?”
“I kept them in my handbag until the opportune moment presented itself.”
“And did it?” The doc was all anticipation.
“Oh yes…I happened upon him in a crowded bar attempting to chat a lady up. Quick as a flash I whipped his duds out of my bag and held them under his nose declaring, I do believe these are yours darling!”
McGivitup roared.
“But yes, this was why it was difficult to pin Maggie down, people from every far flung corner of the country passed through their place…it was always heaving.” I suddenly remembered something. “Among this cast of characters was a man who lived and worked in the village with his family. And although he wasn’t what you might call a regular at Gilbert’s place, he did call in from time to time. There was something about Mr Prefect that I couldn’t quite put my finger on…I felt as if I knew him from the moment we met, he spoke as I imagined my, as yet a dream, man would speak. Although he wasn’t my man, of that I was certain…but he was someone special, I just sensed it. He was a mountain of a man, not fat, just very tall and massive, whose manners were meticulous. He was a perfect gentleman. But, he was an out and out eccentric, who exuded an air of fun and frivolity. He was always jovial and bubbly but with a depreciating sort of wit that didn’t always go down very kindly with Gilbert, probably because of the irreverent way he had of bringing people down to earth with a well placed joke. He reminded me of some sort of old time biblical preacher…without the preach.” I thought about that for a moment, “although he did have a unique knack of wrapping a preach into a cheerful quip. But, I loved him from the moment we met. And I quickly developed a deep friendship with him. He was a chef in his parents cafe just over the way from the pub kitchen I worked in, we’d often trade insults from our respective work doorways, each attempting to out embarrass the other. He had the entire village howling one day… he was out in the dock, dressed in his chefs garb, having a sneaky fag break when some American tourists asked him if the cafe, which was full of people eating, served food? No… Mr Prefect told them, before launching into an elaborate tale of how what they surveyed before them wasn’t actually a cafe, it was a film set, and he was merely taking a break from filming a documentary about food! So no, even though the waitresses were visibly serving tables outside, while clearing away the debris of crockery and cutlery others had left in their wake, food definitely wasn’t being served because it was a film set! And they believed him! But then one day I was walking past the cafe after finishing my shift at the pub, when his mother came flying out calling me. She had in her hand a photograph she was eager to show me, it was of her as a young woman and my dad…Father Augustus?! Apparently they had ‘walked out together’, before she met Mr Prefect’s dad, but only walked out mind you, she stressed, there was definitely no hanky panky. Well that was it…Mr Prefect knew no peace from there on in…I’d found myself another brother! ‘Had the fates transpired to take a different turn,’ declared I to Mr Prefect frequently after that, ‘you would have been my brother… fancy that, you could say we are almost related!’ Little did I know then that it wouldn’t be too much longer before he became my relative for real.”
“How was that?” The doc was keen to know.
“Aw you’ll have to wait for the answer to that one.” I thwarted him. “But now you might better understand why it was so difficult to corner Maggie alone?”
“I think I’ve got the picture.”
“Well anyway, I managed to impart to her my need to speak to her alone, so she took me off up to her and Gilbert’s bedroom…away from the congregation downstairs…where, I gave her my wedding ring and told her that I was passing it on to her with a prayer that she would have someone special to pass it to in the future.” I should have felt tears pricking my eyes as I recalled this now long distant past…but I didn’t, I felt nothing.
McGivitup was looking at me as if I was some sort of saint.
“Oh don’t jump to conclusions doc,” I set him straight, “that ring meant little or nothing to me…the little it meant was the fact that I’d paid for the bloody thing in the first place, Gilbert having bugger all money when we’d been brought together! I’d often thought of selling it for hard cash, but always felt it had a higher purpose to serve, and this was it, I’d found it. And yeah I got two great kids out of the liaison…but if it hadn’t have been for my belief that marriage was a lifetime commitment, I would have happily ditched Gilbert within the first year. Giving that ring away meant nothing to me…” I scratched my head as I thought about that statement, “no,” I finally said, “I’m lying, it meant the final freedom, a duty well done, a tie that I was no longer tied to. A genuine wish that Maggie would soon have the family she’d always dreamed of having.”
“Wow.” Was all the doc could muster.
“But,” I continued, “that is beside the beside, I’m simply setting the scene so that you will have a clear picture of how my life was.” I stared at him to see if he comprehended. He nodded. “because while all this was going on, things progressively began to get a little confusing on the Isaac front.”
The doc raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Well,” I began, attempting to focus my thoughts, so that I might be able to explain a situation that I often felt was inexplicable, “as time crept by, my man failed to show up, Isaac was having little or no luck on the lady front, using each other sexually began to complicate things, because although we both instinctively understood, we as a couple were not meant to be, things never-the-less started to occasionally become a tad intense. We both had the same desire to find a mate to settle down with and from time to time one of us would weaken. Luckily it never happened simultaneously,” I laughed, “otherwise we would have been in trouble! No, I remember occasionally wondering whether Isaac and I weren’t fighting the inevitable, God does after all move in mysterious ways and we did have a better relationship than a lot of married couples I knew…I sometimes wondered if this conviction I had that my man was on the horizon somewhere, wasn’t just me living in la la land! They were my moments of weakness and that was when he would invariably find a girlfriend. And that would pull me up as I would remind myself that although Isaac and I were the best of pals, there was no way we would work as a couple…we wouldn’t have lasted five minutes. Then it would be his turn to have a moment of weakness…because his girlfriends never lasted long in those days…so I’d bed one of his pals. And that’s how we went on. Living the life…me burning the candle at both ends and in the middle, staying up half the night to scribble down all the happenings in the hope of turning them into a world saving situation comedy one day. At the same time I was doing my own head in because I needed an end to my story but I didn’t yet know what it was because I hadn’t lived it yet! It was so frustrating!” I smiled at the doc, shaking my head in bemusement, “I used to dream up scenarios…I was aiming to script it so that the viewers would be lead to believe that Isaac would marry me…and that was my real dream, my man would suddenly appear, then Isaac being a sea captain would preside over our marriage at sea. Then Isaac would fall in love with a nice girl and we’d all live happily ever after.”
“How did things work out?”
“Ah,” my eyes shone into his, “that would be telling! But as time plodded on and nothing much changed, apart from us constantly winding each other up and steadily becoming more entwined, I was driving myself insane wondering if all this my man stuff wasn’t just a figment of my vivid imagination, it was doing my head in, I was beginning to doubt my own sanity, especially as without anything actually being said, Isaac and I seemed to be slipping into something deeper. I sensed make or break time was looming. Meanwhile, the council had finally got it together to do something about our houses, they were going to be rebuilt and us tenants would be moved out in blokes of four, into port-a-cabins on the next street, while our furniture went in storage. The dates they’d set for me coincided with Gilbert and Maggie’s wedding and me looking after a friends two children while she and her husband toured America for six weeks! I had accumulated a fair amount of furnishings and bric-a-brac by then, many thanks to an addiction my mother had acquired with the sale rooms, when I’d been married to Gilbert and therefore in need… trouble was she never stopped…three piece suits and such like were in and out of my house like yo-yo’s as she never failed to bid for something that she thought was better than the last! Bless her…but now I had one hell of a lot of stuff to pack and disassemble, it was an awesome prospect. And two wedding cakes to bake and then ice, a time consuming and delicate operation in itself. Two extra children imminent. And a massive big mad collie dog that Isaac had turned up on the doorstep with, pleading with me to give him a home, yet another indication of where I suspected he was heading. I fell in love with that dog at first sight, he was so pleased to see us, he was ecstatic, it was like he’d finally come home. And he had. But meanwhile I had this daunting prospect of managing everything alone. I’d been battling to try to get family credit for long enough, but because my hours very occasionally dipped below the required hours for qualification, I couldn’t have it. That would have massively boosted my income, even despite the hours of work occasionally being less than those required. I was gutted. So when all these events loomed on the horizon, I thought fuck it, I won’t even try anymore. I quit my job. And the minute I became unemployed, I was offered casual work, cash in hand, left, right and centre. And for the first time in my life I fiddled the system. And it was during this climate that something changed.”
McGivitup leaned in, all ears.
“Our block of houses was last on the list for being rebuilt, so we found ourselves surrounded by builders, electricians, gas fitters and masses of heavy machinery. In between my casual jobs, which were as nothing compared to what I had been working, I became the unofficial tea lady, the kettle never went cold. I got the packing done and the cakes completed in between serving the workers a brew or several. Then they started winding me up. Word was going round that one of the lads from away who was working on the site fancied me. I shrugged it off to start with, putting it down to bloke talk. Then one of my neighbours stopped me to say that one of the workers, an Irishman, had been quizzing her about me, wanting to know if I was single. And like I said, no one knew what was going on between me and Isaac, so she had told him I was. Then he’d been asking at the post office if I ever went out and if so where. Once it reached the post office, it went round the village like wildfire that I was being pursued by a persistent Irishman… and I still hadn’t a clue who the bloke was! I began eyeing all the workmen suspiciously. But because I was their regular tea maker, they all waved and grinned at me, so distinguishing a particular one was difficult. This carried on for a few weeks, the teasers said he was shy and nervous of approaching me. Meanwhile the gossip had spread so far afield that even Isaac had heard about it in some far flung foreign port. He rang me wanting to know who this bloke was that was daft enough to fancy me. I was used to that sort of insult from Isaac, I did it to him all the time too. How would I know, I told him, I’ve never even come across the bloke. After that things progressed apace. I was coming back from the shop one day when I noticed a van that passed me by several times. Back and forth it went, as I chatted to a neighbour, then once the neighbour had gone and just before I turned into our street, it pulled up beside me. A head popped out and an Irish voice nervously asked me if I would be going to the pub that night. No, I replied. Well would you like to come along with me, the voice said. But I don’t even know you, said I surveying him, he was quite handsome. My mind started whirling…could this be my man? God is known for moving in mysterious ways. I had to check it out. I might go round later with a friend, I declared. So we might have a chat? He asked. Maybe, I smiled before setting off for home. Later I dragged her next door out to the pub, she was desperate to check out my possible amour. Once we got there, I spotted him sat with a few older men, obviously his work mates. He stood out like a sore thumb. The other blokes were kitted out in casual clothes, he was dressed up to the eyeballs, a suit and tie, highly polished shoes. I discretely pointed him out to her next door. She openly stared…bloody hell, he means business, she blurted, causing me to laugh out loud. It took the poor lad an age to pluck up the courage to approach us. And when he did I was in serious tease mode! ‘Might I buy you ladies a drink?’ He asked us, shyly, in his beautiful lilting Irish accent. ‘Oh right’ said I, looking him up and down, the only suited person in the entire building, he stood out like a sore thumb, ‘and there’s me thinking you must have a date with the queen or something.’ Her next door nearly choked on her drink, as he blushed. ‘Stop winding the poor lad up.’ Her next door helped him out, ‘I’d like a red wine thank you very much…and she’ll’ she pointed to me, ‘will have a rum and blackcurrant.’ And I still didn’t know so much as his name, so I introduced her next door before saying, ‘and I’m Constantine Payne.’ ‘I know,’ he answered me. ‘Oh yeah…of course you do…you’ve been stalking me for weeks now!’ He blushed again as I made a big issue out of telling her next door how he’d been in the post office, in the pubs, accosting neighbours, all to gather information on me. Then I turned back to him, ‘and I don’t even know your bloody name!’ ‘I’m Patrick Sligo,’ he held his hand out sheepishly to shake. ‘Well wouldn’t you know it? An Irishman called Patrick!’ I laughed, ‘a persistent Patrick at that!’ But yeah, he went on to blush quite a lot did that lad.”
“I can imagine,” the doc said grinning.
“He arranged to meet me the following tea time to take the dog for a walk…you’ll never guess what he turned up in?” I looked at him my eyes smiling.
“A suit and tie and shinny shoes?” McGivitup offered.
“You’ve got it in one,” I laughed at the memory, “so I just couldn’t help myself, I had to take him on the muddiest, thorniest walk I knew!”
“I take it this relationship developed?”
“Well I had to know didn’t I? Was he my man? He was a nice lad…I was mesmerised by his lovely lilting accent, he came across as kind and honest, he told me from the outset that he was married, separated but still married. His work mates, who were quite old, confirmed this. They were very protective of him, they suspected I might be a single mother who would take him for a ride and use him as a meal ticket. But I’ve never worked like that, I don’t mind scrounging off mates if I’m in dire straights, there will always come a time when you can repay debts like that when they hit hard times, but being beholden to strangers is something you don’t do because then they have got something on you…if you know what I mean? So I always paid my own way. Anyway, I wasn’t sure who he was but he was good company, we had a laugh and I wasn’t going anywhere until I knew for sure. But when the liaison eventually became sexual I ripped the shit out of him when I found out he was a catholic. ‘You lot go to that confession thing don’t you?’ I asked him. ‘Yes.’ ‘Do you go?’ I wanted to know. ‘Sometimes.’ ‘When was the last time you went?’ ‘About tree monts ago.’ ‘So how long were you in there…three weeks you dirty little sinner!’ But then it began to dawn on me that catholic’s aren’t supposed to be allowed to divorce. It began to sink in that this wasn’t my man. Plus he wasn’t musical. Although I still sensed there was a reason for him entering my life. He was very intense though, forever trying to pin me down to a serious relationship. I laughed him off, telling him, ‘hey Irish boy, don’t go setting any designs on me, I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow half the time, let alone next week…I have a destiny to fulfil, I go with the flow.’ He wanted to know what destiny? ‘I don’t know do I…all I know is I’ve got to fulfil it!’ Then Isaac came home.”
“So how did Isaac take your new romance?”
“Oh he was very nonchalant as usual, predicting it wouldn’t last. But by then I already knew it was in its last throes…Persistent Pat had told me, as had his work mates, that although he and his wife were separated, they still shared a house…I could get my head round that, it happens, it happened to me with Gilbert…apparently she would move out to stay with relatives when he went home for the weekend. So why wouldn’t he give me a contact number for when he was at home? I began to suspect he was either attempting to patch his marriage up, being a good little catholic boy, or, the whole lot of them had been lying from the outset and he was never separated in the first place.” I gave the doc a super sleuth look. “But then, something odd happened. It was my birthday and instead of giving me the usual bottle of rum, Isaac actually bought me a present, a real present! Eric Clapton’s album August. Were the lyrics meant to be meaningful? Kind of…who do you love? That sort of thing. A light went on in my head, that was the reason for persistent Patrick happening along, it was time to call a halt to this Isaac thing, once and for all. So when persistent turned up again I told him that he’d been sent to me by the Big G to put a stop to the dodgy relationship that had developed between me and Isaac. Poor lad thought I was off my rocker. But he was still persistent, I had to tell him that I was afraid my destiny didn’t include him.”
“How did he take that?”
“Well by that time they’d just about finished the job they’d been brought in to do, so they were moving on anyway, but he did phone me a couple of times before he disappeared for good.”
“And did that spell the end for you and Isaac too?” The doc was totally absorbed with hearing my story.
“Oh God,” I sighed, “the parting from Isaac was really poignant…but yes it was.”
“Why was it poignant?” The nosy one wanted to know.
“He invited me round to his house for a meal…Isaac cooking a meal…it was unheard of! But meal over, lots of rum and drunken banter later, it was the early hours. The atmosphere was electric with unspoken sentiment. Then Isaac played a song on the tape deck, it was that one by Hazel O’Connor…Will You. It went…’we’re sitting here playing it so cool, thinking what will be will be. It’s getting kind of late now, I wonder if you’ll stay, or will you politely say goodnight?’ It was a terrible moment, extremely moving, I knew this was Isaac’s way of saying come back. I was truly torn, I loved Isaac to bits…but as a brother, not a lover. And I knew it was the same for him. Even so, I was aware that we had a better relationship than the majority of couples had. I was in turmoil. Then I thought about my man as predicted by my long ago vision, I remembered my mothers warning from beyond the grave. I took a leap of faith, I gave Isaac a final hug and went home.”
“So did you go your separate ways after that?” McGivitup was eager to know.
“God no, we were still round each others houses. I still looked after his house while he was working. We were still pals. It was just that we were both ready for proper relationships…and instinctively knew that wasn’t with each other.”
“No one could ever accuse you of being boring.” The doc said as he sat back and straightened his back again. After a quick stretch, he checked his watch.
“Good God is that the time…we’d better get moving or I’ll be late for work!”
“Don’t worry about it, it may well take ages to get up here, but it only takes fifteen minutes to get home because it’s all down hill!”
We raced back to the village. When we reached my turn off I wished him well for his trip to Africa and then he was gone.
I went home and slept like a log after my illicit rum!