- Writings and Rightings -
LESLEY CORINA
A Year with Myself
A short extract from one of my 60-4-60 experiences
I I found a smoker in a Charity Shop – unused and still in its original box. And all this for just £8. So I had to buy it. This This was last year – I’ve wanted to try it for months but just not got round to it. So it went as one of my 60-4-60 experiences and I can now report how we both found it.
... When Dennis (my ex) got the job of Head Chef at Loblollies they had a smoker and he talked about their smoked chicken. I always wanted to try smoking some myself. We have also found, in the freezer some pieces of salmon that we no longer like. We still eat salmon but prefer another brand.
... I had to buy (meths) methylate spirits as I’d left the bottle that we did have in Walton! I decided that I should ‘season’ the smoker as per the instructions. I decided to do this outside. I place bark (some twigs from my rosemary bush) on the bottom, lit the burners and stood back. Nothing at all happened. I found a candle and used that to try to light the burners. Again nothing happened. Well something happen, wax dripped over everywhere including over the burners! In the garden it was windy and try as I might I couldn’t get shelter. I considered my options over a cup of tea. I decided that as I would cook a fondue inside – and the burner for the smoker was just the same – then why not set the smoker up inside? Okay the fondue only has a single burner and the smoker has two. But it’s the same principle. I checked the images on the box to see if there was any indication that it should not be used inside. There was nothing to indicate I couldn’t. And further, nothing about not using it inside in the instruction. Instructions that are written on the box so not as complete as they could be. But they were there and as not using it inside was not included I decided to go ahead. (I’m so glad Andrew isn’t reading this.)
I brought the smoker inside and set it up in the kitchen on two metal trivets. I put some more meths in the burners – sadly some must have spilt. (I think you’re ahead of me). I lit the burners and flames came lapping up from all sides – but not from the meth filled burners. The flames licked the work surface, my plastic oven gloves (YES I was using my plastic oven gloves with naked flames) and the sushi straw (now singed at the edges) mat. I poured water all over the surface, dropped the snuffers over the burners and douched the sushi mat!
The Gentleman Vanishes
The opening chapter when the first 'wife' and Peter start their honeymoon as they take a luxary trip to an unexpected ending
The streets are quiet, it’s still early. In the hush of dawn Sandra walks around the station and photographs trains arriving
and departing. She captures stunning images as the wash of humanity once again spills onto the streets and reclaims the day.
Twenty minutes later Sandra decides that she'd better return to the station. She's smiling and happy. She's photographed
several interesting street scenes and watched the city come to life. At 7.15, local time, Sandra realises that it's time for her to
return to her responsibilities and her new life as Mrs Peter Meakin.
She walks slowly back to the station and along the platform that she'd photographed earlier. Life's waking up all around
her. Everyone appears to be pushing and shoving everyone else as they try to find space for themself in the over full
surroundings. She's exhilarated and so full of life herself that she almost dances along the walkway and in to the waiting room
A room so full of faded grandeur and impressive proportions that she wants to live there forever. She knows this is impossible. So she she'll satisfy herself by taking several stunning photographs; once she's been reunited with her beloved Peter.
She flings the door open. Actually with more force than she'd expected. Her joy at life's making her stronger than she knows.
She freezes. The room's the same. Faded, splendid, massive, painted in a lemon yellow, the incredibly tall and ornate windows, a tatty table in the corner, five gilt dining chairs covered in bright red velvet and a large gilded mirror hanging over a white marble fireplace. The room's most definitely the same. What's missing is Peter, her luggage, her passport, her money and her gems. To her credit Sandra doesn't actually register the loss of the last four items at first. It's the fact that Peter's not there that impacts most strongly. Her desire to see him and her disappointment, at him not being there on her return, are her first thoughts. Her second though is how much she must love him if his absence can cause her this much pain.
The Silence of Eternity
Having established a degree of mutural trust Sandra insists that Beverley goes shopping with her as she'd value his opionion. The ghosts of Johnny and Cutter follow them as Sandra, (who should be in mourning) tries on a succession of ball gowns.
‘No, but you never know. I don’t suppose you’d be free to take me out in it, would you, Beverley?’
‘What! Berkshire the answer’s no. You’re not to take my woman out wearing a dress that I’m paying for. Got it?’
‘Johnny, would you want him to take her out without the dress on?’ Cutter asks helpfully or otherwise.
‘Cutter, keep out of this. I’m talking to him and he knows it. Berkshire, it won’t help you sticking your over long nose in the air.’
‘Over long? It’s not over long!’ Beverley replies.
Only Sandra thinks the comment’s directed at her. ‘No. I don’t think so, Beverley. Okay in these shoes the hem reaches the floor. I’ve another pair of heels that are an inch or so higher. So they’ll lift it completely off the ground. Well, perhaps just enough off the ground so I can walk in it. If you like I’ll call an assistant and ask to borrow a pair of shoes with a higher heel. That way you’ll get the full effect.’
‘No. I don’t need you to do that for me, Sandra. I can picture it with heels an inch, or perhaps one and a half inches higher? Then that would lift it and allow the skirt to cascade around your pretty ankles.’
‘You know, Beverley, you’re right. That’s exactly what it needs. Oh, Beverley, that’s what I like about you. You notice these things. My Johnny, never would. The slip showing, the length, how the skirt should fall and hang. You know I think shopping with you’s almost like shopping with another woman. You know… Perhaps I shouldn’t say this. Talk ill of the dead and all that. But My Johnny was awful to shop with. I’d be trying a few things on and he’d have a face like a wet weekend. You know what I mean?’
‘Yes, Sandra, I do. In fact I can see what you mean right now,’ Beverley adds turning to face Johnny.
‘Look, let me take your arm and if we turn to face the mirror. What do you see?’ Sandra asks.
‘It’s a good job he can see through you, Johnny, or he’d not be able to answer her,’ Cutter remarks.
‘Berkshire, I’m warning you.’
‘Come on, Beverley, don’t be shy. What you see?’
‘Sandra, what a question? I see a stunningly beautiful woman in an exquisite ball gown alongside an old, ugly man in a worn out pair of jeans and a sloppy jumper. That’s what I see, Sandra. But what do you see?’
‘Beverley, I like the first bit. Then you let the side down. I’d say you have more of a lived in face. One that shows the good nature of the person. It reflects character, experience and consideration.’
‘Consideration of everyone but me. Berkshire, for the last time, get out of here and leave my woman alone.’
‘Beverley, what’s that? Look there! In the mirror? It’s gone! Didn’t you see it?’
‘No? What was it? Was it a mark? ’
‘For a moment, Beverley. No! No. This is silly. It was only for a split second. No this is too ridiculous.’
‘Sandra, look at you, you’re shaking. Come sit down, over here. Come on.’
‘Beverley, if I crease the dress I’ll have to buy it. What the hell. I like it. I’ll get changed.’
‘No, Sandra. Sit down and tell me what you saw that made you react so. Do you still need me to hold your hand?’
‘Berkshire, you’re trying it on with her again. I told you I’ll not stand for it. Now get up from her side and -.’
‘Beverley I saw a man. There, I’ve said it.’
‘Berkshire she saw me!’ Johnny screams and then dances for joy.
Reprisals, Retributions and Reprieves
Eve has come back to New York to give evidence for the defence only to be forced to face Matt who is conducting, without mercy, the prosecution.
“Thank you, Miss Jackson. No further questions, Your Honour.”
Eve watches as Jacqueline walks back to her table. She tries not to notice as Matt stands up and walks, slowly, towards her. He
has a look on his face that she doesn’t recognise. A look he never uses when he’s out drinking with her. She tries to raise her
eyes to meet his but finds it very difficult. She scans the room and sees Kenny, Peter, and Felix sat side by side. Their heads are
lowered as each one is alone with his own thoughts. She sees Monique who seems oblivious, somehow as if she were above it
all.
Matt brings her back to the here and now. “Miss Jackson, I need to state for the benefit of the Court that you and I are socially
already acquainted. Will you, kindly tell the Court, in your own words, the level of the acquaintance that we share?” Matt asks,
kindly.
"You and I," Eve stops taking. She wants to say 'before all this started' but she stops herself. She knows that she needs to start
building bridges and not walls. After smiling at Matt, the jury, the judge, and then at Monique she continues. "Truthfully? Won’t
that be a tad embarrassing?”
The titter of mirth around the whole court room isn’t lost as Matt acknowledges it. “Miss Jackson, highly for me. But you, you are above reproach. Please, in your own words.”
“I’m very fond of you. You are one of my two best drinking buddies."
'Truth will out' Matt thinks as the laughter, once again, fills the room. Even Judge Brackstowe is laughing, slightly. Matt rides the laughter. It doesn't do any harm for the jury to actually see him as being human.
"Thank you for that character assassination, Miss Jackson," Matt says lightly. He’s reward by another round of free flowing mirth. Snapping back into lawyer mode he approaches Eve. Very gently he asks, "You have stated that Miss Davis-De Barry is a close friend. In fact did you not say that you brought her up when her own mother died?”
“Are you now trying to accuse me of turning her into the monster that you’re all trying to make her out to be?” Eve snaps. Even to her own ears she can hear that she’s being unreasonable.
“You think she is a monster?” Matt jumps in without showing any mercy.
“Your Honour,” Eve snaps turning to face the judge, “can I treat this man as a hostile prosecutor?” she asks.
Judge Brackstowe smiles benignly at her as he removes his glasses. He polishes them thoroughly while he thinks of his reply. This is an activity he’s designed himself. His way of keeping wayward smiles from resting, for even a split second, on his tight, thin lips. He’s not registered this, but if he had, then he would have realised that this is an activity that he’s not needed to deploy for over a decade. Judge Brackstowe isn’t famed for allowing mirth in his courtroom. He glances at Eve. He can tell that she is also going to need careful handling.
“That is a highly unusual request, Miss Jackson. You see it is more common for the prosecutor to treat a witness as hostile. But I do not see why it could not be the other way round as well. But before we go down that road. Before we start to label things in ways that we have no idea of what their consequences will be. Can we just try to be civil to each other and see if we can get along like that? At least to start off with?”