A Bit of a Do by David Nobbs Read Free Book Online Page A

During his wedding reception??’
    ‘It’s probably my fault,’ said Rita. ‘He’d promised to get one, and I ticked him off about it.’
    ‘Are you thinking of coming on the honeymoon?’ said Jenny.
    ‘What?’ It was Rita’s tum to look thunderstruck and dismayed.
    ‘If he goes for a haircut during his reception because you tell him to, he may need you on the honeymoon to tell him what to do.’
    Jenny blundered off in tears towards the door, and at that moment Paul entered, rather sheepishly. He hadn’t had a haircut.
    ‘Hello!’ he said. ‘I went for a walk. I was nervous.’
    ‘That’s not much of a haircut,’ said Jenny. ‘Was it worth it, I ask myself.’ And she stormed out of the room.
    ‘Oh heck,’ said Paul.
    Now it was a wonderful summer’s afternoon, cloudless, windless. The buzzing hour. Light aircraft. Distant mowers. Imminent wasps. Whatever could buzz, did buzz. How lucky they would have been with the weather, if such considerations had still been important.
    The residents having tea on the glass-roofed terrace watched the frantic groom chase the tearful bride along the hotel drive. The families on the putting green flinched as Jenny let her superb train trail along the gravel.
    ‘Jenny! Come back!’ yelled Paul.
    ‘Why?’ shouted Jenny, still running at full pelt. She’d been quite an athlete at school. In fact she could have played hockey for the county, if she hadn’t found the atmosphere surrounding organized sport so reactionary.
    ‘Because it’s your wedding reception,’ gasped Paul through bursting lungs. ‘You’ll always regret it if you spoil it.’
    ‘That didn’t stop you,’ shouted Jenny. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t go to the pictures while you were out.’
    She was fitter than him! He was making no impression on the gap between them. He felt that he was making no impression on the emotional gap either. ‘Jenny!’ he panted. ‘I did it to stop her thinking she could get me to do what she wants any more.’
    ‘By doing what she wanted? That’s a funny way of showing it,’ shouted Jenny over her shoulder, pounding on towards the Tadcaster Road.
    She was drawing away from him! He felt a pang of sexist humiliation. He felt a pang of guilt at feeling a pang of sexist humiliation. He struggled on desperately. ‘I never intended to have my hair cut,’ he croaked. ‘I just wanted to frighten her. That’s all, love. Oh, Jenny, please! I love you! I love you!’
    Paul’s shouted endearments caused a sentimental chemist to miss a two-foot putt on the seventh hole. It also caused Jenny to turn and wait for him. She held out her arms, and he buried himself in her loveliness. They clung to each other, motionless.Eva Blumenthal, a florist from Freiburg, watching their youthful embrace with delight and not a little envy, missed the teacup at which she was aiming and poured half a pot of scalding tea down the crotch of her husband Fritz, a com chandler from the same ancient city. They play little further part in this tale, and sympathetic readers should be assured that they are happily married, with two boys, one daughter, a labrador and a BMW, and that they enjoyed their holiday, except for the ruining of a pair of Italian trousers and a Saturday night.
    Paul and Jenny set off slowly back towards their reception, blissfully unaware that they were the object of so much attention.
    ‘I don’t want to lie to you,’ said Paul. ‘I did intend to have my hair cut.’
    ‘Why didn’t you?’
    ‘There was a queue. Just as I got to the front a man barged in in front of me. Just because he had an appointment. I saw red and stormed out.’
    ‘What a stormy day.’
    ‘Well … I’m on edge. Weddings.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘Come on,’ said Paul, increasing his pace sharply. ‘Everybody must be wondering where I am.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Jenny doubtfully.
    ‘Anyway, it all ended up all right. I’ve taught her a lesson, and I haven’t had the haircut she