When angry, count to four; when very angry, swear

“If a woman is upset, hold her and tell her how beautiful she is. If she starts to growl, retreat to a safe distance and throw chocolate at her.”






It was soon the weekend again. I had avoided Adam as I didn’t need a disaster debrief. I popped into town to look for some new underpants – God, life made me dizzy with excitement.


It was Damon. I got embarrassed. The last time I had seen him, I was crying, now I was there with a pack of three underpants. We hugged.

“How are you?”

“Yeah, OK. you?”

“OK. Look, there are some letters that came for Vic. I’ve left them in the flat. I don’t have any forwarding addresses so I just left them there. I didn’t want to throw them away.”

“I’ll come and get them now.”

I hastily put the underwear down and we left and walked up the road together. It made me feel sick as it was the same walk I had made when I found her.

Damon opened the main door. I just stood there.

“It’s OK. I’ll wait here.”

The stairs, the carpet, they all looked the same. Damon returned from the lounge with a handful of letters. I kept hold of them and made no effort to open them until I got home. Most of the letters looked like junk mail or statements. I would send them on to her parents, but one of the letters was from ‘Wedded Bliss’. I opened the letter and read the contents. It was from the owner of the shop, asking if Victoria still wanted them to store the dress, as the last two direct debits they  had tried to take had not gone through.

I must’ve read the letter half a dozen times.

Months and months and months ago she had gone to a wedding fair with a couple of friends and announced proudly when she came back, she had bought a wedding dress.

Then she got tired and more temperamental and then we had argued.

We had gone out the night before and she was spoiling for a row and I annoyed her which gave her a reason. It turned into an argument as we walked to the car.

“I will never marry you.”


“I can’t trust you.”

“Vic, don’t be stupid.”

“You always make me a fucking laughing stock. Everyone will be talking about you. I am not marrying you. Let some other poor sucker have the dress.”

“I will go back in there now and announce to everyone I love you. I will tell them all and anyone else who will listen how much I love you.”

The argument stopped there. As time went on things seemed to be OK, but the marriage issue was never brought up again.

All this time, I thought she had really not wanted to marry him. But it was just her hurting and striking out.

I rang the shop. I couldn’t face walking in. I explained to them what had happened. I tried to stay calm and friendly but I could hear my voice shaking.

“Don’t worry sir. What would you like us to do with the dress?”

“It’s paid for. Whatever you want. I will leave that to you.”

To be honest I didn’t want to know what happened to it.

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