CHAPTER 43
They were soon back, and John went for the throat, as if he had been weighing it up as the other two flirted.
“Will, where’s your Mam from?”
“Valleys, up around Ponty, that area”
“In English? Bit more detail?”
“South Wales, Pontypridd area”
“Chapel?”
“Oh god yes, her side of the family is very much that way”
“We talking religious arguments, or just ‘because!’?”
I saw where he was going. Was Von, was her family, the sort that argued over doctrinal points, or sheep? If the former, then there was always a slim chance that they could be swayed. If it was unthinking obeisance to whatever the church had decreed, then we were stuffed. John was still talking.
“Here’s my take on it, like, and understand it’s just my view, how I feel. I knew I was that way when I first started looking at lasses, aye? They never did it for me. Before any of you start, I wasn’t like him in the corner there, Neil, I wasn’t into clothes, or colour matching or jumping puddles, I just preferred lads. I look at it now, and I think, shite, it should be no different from whether I like marzipan or not. Matter of taste, aye? But the world isn’t like that, it’s a bit short of common sense, aye?”
Larinda laughed. “Yeah, common sense is a bit bleedin’ rare, innit?”
“Aye. So, Will, what you will be thinking is that you’re at fault. We all do, it’s the way society sets us up, aye? Jill here’s got it a lot worse, of course, but we’re talking about thy problems for now. Look, your mother, she’s not going to suddenly see the light, change her views, so you need to skate carefully. I think you’re more like me than Nelly here, am I right? No urge to lisp and flap your hands about?”
Will laughed. “I have never understood that bit, yeah? If you fancy guys, then surely…”
Larinda had the tissues, as usual. He had collapsed so suddenly it was shocking, and even though I knew he was under stress it came as a real surprise.
“Sorry, people…just, look, this is the first time I have ever been able to talk openly, really openly, yeah? Even that day out at Arundel, that wasn’t like this. I mean, you all know here, and you’re all so cool with it, yeah?”
John sipped his pint. “Exactly, Will. I get the feeling that apart from the two crumblies there, we all have a bit of history, so it’s a bit glass houses, like. The point I am getting across is that while you need to be a bit careful, like, make your own mind up. You are what you are, and it won’t change, I can tell you that, so just get on with your life and try…”
He looked me hard in the eye, and there was shame there. “Try not to hurt others just cause you have some of your own pain, aye?”
Memories slithered out again at that, and I couldn’t help the sharp glare that I gave him. He took a bigger mouthful, and looked back, head cocked.
“Aye, I was, wasn’t I? And when I left the Fusiliers, like, this was a bit too handy for a while. I get the idea you might have been down that road as well, aye?”
He turned to Will once more. “There are a lot of people that can look like friends, lad, and things as well, like the happy juice here. Rob, Jill, I said I do get the feeling…aye? Aye, I see. Will, I think these ‘uns, aye, I think they aren’t that sort of friend. Look, how long are you all up for?”
Mam spoke up, and I realised she had been listening very, very carefully, but for once laying aside her role as matriarch. “They’ll gan back on the Monday morn. I was thinking of a proper Sunday dinner, but at tea-time, like, so they can get another bit look around. Thought we’d head on over to the Waal”
Larinda muttered something that sounded a bit like “In English, please” and Mam put on her best grammar school girl accent.
“One thought that one may perhaps venture a sojourn in the area rich in architectural remains of the Roman Imperium, don’t you know”
Rachel laughed. “Dame Celia Molestrangler, and I claim my five pounds! Ralph, if you can pull off Binky Huckabuck…no, forget it. You are all bloody philistines. I give up!”
She tried to pull a face, but then started to giggle, which was odd coming from her, and then I got the rest of the joke.
“Julian and Sandy, bugger a hell. Rach, I do not think any of these three, aye?”
She snorted, which was more like her, and raised a hand to cover her face, and then I realised that one other person had now got the joke. Mam nodded.
“Round the Horne? Jill here used to be devoted to that. So was her Dad, used to be sat listening to that, and Family Favourites, while some skivvy made their Sunday dinner. Now, who might that skivvy have been? Oh, it would have been me! That is what makes me realise how serious this is. My…girl here grew up tight through all the usual shite with housework, aye? And she still wants to join the club…ach, howay, Norma. Those of ye who haven’t heard, aye, it was radio comedy, had a couple of poofters on it. That the joke, Rachel?”
Rachel nodded sharply, suddenly entirely serious. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking. That’s what the prejudice is, the silly walk, the floppy wrist, and it’s not, it’s what John says, Will, it’s marzipan, or marmite, or garlic, yeah? I mean, there are even people who don’t like curry!”
Larinda was in again, playing tag with my friend, her friend now, clearly. “Yeah, and they don’t have no special sermons in church, chapel, thingy, about condemning the godless who eat not of the tandoori”
Ralph was laughing now, as the joke sank in. “Aye, blessed be the tikka, for it cometh wi’ minty yoghurt, like!”
Neil just smiled, shaking his head. “Sorry, I still like me bit camp, like. Each to their own”
Will grinned, tears almost forgotten. “I can drink to that! Whose round is it?”
Mam grunted. “Nobody’s, because if we are going to go out tomorrow, you are not doing it with a thick head. You can either stay here and fuddle yourself, or have a ride out the morn, but not both, aye?”
She looked at Rachel, then over to the bar. “John, thy Jim, aye? Does he get days off?”
The grin was back. “You asking him round to dinner, like?”
“Whey aye, and why not?”
“I think he might just find someone to look after the place tomorrow, aye? How, Jim! Ye’re out tomorrow, aye?”
Jim came over to our corner. “Aye, and?”
“Mrs Carter here will do you a proper Sunday tea, aye, and…aye, you up to driving tomorrow? Mrs Carter, he has an eight-seater, save you a bit drive, like, pay for his dinner”
Jim rumbled a sort of agreement. John just nodded. “So we’re all canny, then. Now, sup up, beauty sleep to have, and I have a pint or two to sup. What time, Mrs Carter?”
“Norma. Ten OK? Come round earlier if you want, Jim, and I’ll do ye a breakfast. Howay, yeez lot. Jim’s right, full day tomorrow, and some of us have to do the cooking tomorrow”
We formed up to leave, and as we moved towards the door John just raised his glass and nodded, and I saw his lips form the words “Thank you”
The next morning, I came down to find Jim already tucking into the fried breakfast that Mam was feeding us all in a sort of cookery relay. He looked up at me, a little wary.
“John telt us it aal…”
“Aye, well, I’m still me, like. Just looking to change a few bits round the edges”
“Ach, ne worries. Look, can we just hev the day oot, like, and see hoo we gan on?”
I found myself smiling at that. “And you’re nervous as all hell about Rachel, like? Too much to deal with all at once”
“Aye, sort of”
“Well, she’s down in a bit, like, so we’ll sit her at the back of the bus to keep you from getting distracted”
“Aye, well, thy Mam should get in the front, like, wi’ hor leg an aal”
“You are giving up the chance of a bit crumpet next to you while you drive?”
“Aye well, she’s not as scary as thy Mam, like”
“Oh, Jim, you really, really don’t know our Rachel. Trust me, she can be bloody scary”
He mopped up the last of his beans with a bit of toast. “Aye, and ye knaa what? If Ah’m lucky, like, Ah might find oot”
“Ah, Jim, as long as you don’t hurt her, aye? Then I’d have to kill you, yeah?”
He burst out laughing. “That’s exactly what thy lass, Larinda said tiv us! Bugger a hell, are ye two ever well matched!”
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Comments
"Bugger a hell, are ye two ever well matched!â€
I think so. In fact, they all match well together, if you know what I mean. I like the bit on preferences, it makes sense.
Dorothycolleen, member of Bailey's Angels
Imagine an Italian who doesn't like eggplant....
...I'm getting to feel good about that. Your story once again reminds me that it's okay to be me and like what I like and love whom I love. Designer genes in an off the rack world. Thank you, Steph!
Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena
Love, Andrea Lena
Those of us who are ...
... both British and of a certain age will remember 'Round the Horne' and 'Beyond our Ken' with some affection even if we didn't entirely understand the affectations of some of the main characters. It's interesting that Binky and Celia were thinly disguised Noel Coward and Gertrude Lawrence, and Coward was also gay. I admit that I, like John and Will have never really understood why gay males would find camp characters, like Jules and Sandy attractive but I completely understand why they might find masculinity appealing. Each to their own, I guess and there's nowt so queer as folk - and I use 'queer' in its original sense.
I wonder if Jill will ever find it in her way to forgive John completely. We're not privy to what went before so we can't judge how big a step that might be. I don't think the idea of religious argument versus 'just because' was pursued to a conclusion. If it's the former then there' more hope for Will with his family.
Thanks
Robi
Regional accent
Even though I am having a hard time understanding the local dialect and/or accent spoken here, I am still having a good chuckle, giggle or laugh while reading this wonderfull tale. Your characterisation of the various players is very good, and feels very real too.
Jessica
Accent/dialect
It is difficult, here, to write it in any other way. Northumbrian was a language, part of a group that included the Wessex version of Anglo-Saxon that came to be known as Old English, and as Edinburgh was once in Northumbria, and named after one of its kings, Edwin, 'lallans' or lowland Scots, as spoken by a certain Portsmouth professor, was originally a branch of Northumbrian. Confusingly, Scots has nothing whatsoever to do with The Scots, who were an invading Gaeilc-speaking tribe from Ireland...pay attention at the back!
Geordie, the best-known branch, is also heavily influenced by Norwegian, or at least the Old Norse of the Vikings. Many words are identical, and the vowel sounds are pre-Great Vowel Shift. Bird rhymes with board, burn is pronounced born, walk rhymes roughly with park and work with pork. The 'aw' sound becomes 'ah' in many words, and 'oo' changes to 'ee'. The default consonant in many conjunctions and prepositions is a 'v', which turns 'do/don't' into 'de/divvent'. So 'from out of' becomes 'frev oot a'
Home is 'hyem', a purely Norwegian word, and there are antique grammatical and consonantal structures, such as the construction "Ah [I] used te could' for 'I was once able to'. Other standard fill includes 'an'aal' for 'as well', 'howay' [NOT 'away'] for come along, 'haddaway' for the opposite, and the words 'how' and 'canny'. Do not confuse the latter with the Scots word meaning careful or shrewd; it has around a dozen distinct meanings in Geordie, and when used to refer to health, in the words of one author, can mean anything from the best of health to imminent expiry, depending on tone.
'How', not to be confused with 'hoo' [which means 'how'], is a greeting and interjection.
"How, Geordie, hoo'd it gan at the gyem, like?" is "Hey, George, how did the match go?"
It has also been suggested that a foreigner could pass an entire evening at a pub furnished only with the standard phrases "Haddaway an' loss yersel' ", "Ah'll hev a scotch", "Whey aye marra" and variations on a theme such as "Bugger a hell", "Ye bugger man" and "Whey ye bugger man". The word 'man' is used as a gender-neutral emphatic, as in "Howay wi'we woman man!" or "Come along my dear"
So that's what they are saying
Thank you for this mini-lecture. It was a good read in its own right, at least for someone like me who's looking at things from the opposite edge of the viking cultural sphere.
Oh yes, the story is good too. ;)
Two local jokes
Geordie goes to the doctor's with a bad back.
"Well, George, how bad is it? Can you walk"
"Work, doctor? I cannat even waak!"
------------------------------------
Geordie is in a cafe, and the waitress brings the sweet trolley.
"Would you like a cake, sir, or a meringue?"
"Nah, ye're not wrang, hinny, Ah'll hev a cyek!"
This Reminded Me
I was reading a newspaper article printed in an Australian paper a few days ago. Some of you may have heard that Qantas (the Australian airline) is having a somewhat strained relationship with some (or most) of its workforce in recent times and cancelled all its services at one point. The dispute has been referred to an industrial tribunal.
Now the CEO of Qantas is an Irishman named Alan Joyce and this fearless, truth-seeking, crusading journalist, one Andrew Bolt, made an issue of the fact that Mr. Joyce is gay, his supposed point being that Mr. Joyce was muscularly aggressive in his dealings with the unions and not at all limp-wristed.
No doubt people who know Alan Joyce were aware of this since he has apparently made no effort to hide his partner away in some dark corner, but it made me furious that some smart-arsed hate-monger could draw the attention of the public to his sexuality when it has absolutely no relevance to how the dispute with the unions will be conducted or resolved, any more than the fact that Mr. Joyce is Irish.
I knew, naturally, that Alan Joyce is Irish, because he opens his mouth occasionally and it's not a Geordie or Aussie accent that comes out. I had no idea that he is gay and nor do I care. That's his business. I do care about the way he is handling the industrial dispute and follow progress with interest.
Andrew Bolt was recently convicted of producing an earlier article denigrating Australian aboriginals who are of mixed parentage and thus not so dark-skinned as some of their relatives, claiming that they traded on their aboriginality for professional advancement and Government handouts. His defence was that he was exercising his right to free speech.
So there are our protagonists pointing out the irrelevance of sexual preferences and this is what is still happening in the real world.
Prejudice and innuendo is far from dead,
Joanne
Tempted
...to say that it is at the "...and your mother smells!" level of invective, but it isn't. It is in-group code: you are allowed to hate him because he Isn't Like Us Normal Folks, so his mother smells and everything he does can be condemned. Rabble-rousing, in the true sense. I was in a bar in Avignon, years and years ago, and an Aussie said to me, in a totally casual way, "Abos? Trouble with them is that we didn't finish the job"..and exterminate them all. It was a symptom of the reality that however many advances we make, however far we take tolerance, there remain humanoid things lurking under rocks that continue to hold opinions that fester and corrupt.
Sometimes, they come out into the open. Just watch Fox News, or Ahmedinejad, or Herman Cain, to get the picture. It doesn't seem to go away. Now, I happen to believe that Andrew Bo*t has a very small penis that he doesn't keep very clean. He suffers terribly from thrush, as well as the prems.
Well, my right to free speech...
I loved this line: “Aye,
I loved this line:
Sadly Sycamore no more
Some locals decided they didn't like it......
__
Estarriol
I used to be normal, but I found the cure....