On Chasing Brad Through Purgatory by Stephen Benatar Read Free Book Online Page A

he’d earlier told me I was. “Well even a little bit of that is allowed and don’t you try to have us believe otherwise.” To accompany those last few words she shook a teaspoon at him.
    He made a grimace. “Danny finish your coffee and then we’ll get away from this subversive woman.” I think he fancied her. I think she fancied him. I suddenly wondered if they were having a relationship.
    â€œAnyway the best of luck,” she said to me. “Don’t let him bully you.”
    â€œI’ll try not to. Thank you for your good advice.”
    â€œYou just remain your own man,” she smiled.
    â€œYep.” Yours too I said to Brad. “And Brad’s,” I told her quite spontaneously.
    Richard took me into the dining room … with a quick stop-off at the loo. He wanted to order me an early lunch but I felt there was no way I could have handled one. “Anyhow,” he said, ‘you’ll be back here soon enough.” So we looked in at the lounge bar. It wasn’t full and he stopped to have a short chat with everybody gathered there, some sitting alone, some in couples or groups—his having first, from the doorway, introduced me. Several of the guests offered me wine but I explained I’d only just had coffee. After about a quarter of an hour Richard drew me away. “By now Hermione should have got that package ready.”
    Since I was anyhow having to visit the hospital they’d decided I might as well carry back as many of the laundered gowns as I could manage; people arrived in them from time to time without there being any settled system for their return. “Yes a bit of a drain on the poor old Health Service,” I’d murmured drily.
    The parcel proved to be a lot more bulky than anticipated and Hermione worried it could easily grow to be a nuisance over a distance of some two to three miles. I told them I was glad to be of service (asked winningly if this would score me any points); said I could always carry it on my head if necessary and in any case what was the use of going to the gym twice a week if I meant now to be defeated by a silly little bundle of laundry. “Besides,” I said, “if I do transport it on my head people will still be able to see my pecs; I feel one has to be considerate regarding all such points as these.”
    I soon had my comeuppance. Already ten minutes or more into the journey I suddenly realized I had forgotten the raincoat. Ironical or what? I was obliged to go back and collect it. Feeling a bit stupid. Richard saw me off again. “You’d better put it on,” he said, “otherwise it will be slipping about all over the place.” He not only helped me into it but with a look of benign yet slyly triumphal paternalism insisted on doing up all the buttons while he somehow prevented me from throwing down the bundle and thereby putting up a decent fight.
    That raincoat felt practically like a straitjacket.
    But I showed a sweet forbearance with him. Because he had shown a sweet forbearance with me.
    And of course the moment I was out of sight I attempted to undo the buttons. Yet again—anyway for the time being—there was something which prevented me succeeding.
    It was a cheap trick but at least I found it amusing. Not so long ago Brad and I had watched a black-and-white movie made in the Forties. There was one particular line in it which had entered our vocabulary … “Okay gov—you got me—it’s a fair cop!”

7
    At the hospital I left the raincoat precisely where I’d found it but then decided I ought to take that burdensome parcel up to one of the wards and leave it with somebody official; otherwise … unattended bags and packages … weren’t we always being warned to be vigilant? Besides, a very basic amount of explanation would surely be required: “A secondhand stockiest—closing down—wondered whether…?”