If Music Be the Food of Love

He complained about the music. Just as he was falling off it would wake him up again from his catnap. “That’s music for you,” I said. “It varies.”

Later he was watching The Wire on mute and subtitles that makes it possible for me to hear my music on Radio 3 or cd. He shouted on me. I was in the kitchen making him an omelette. “John! John! The music’s too loud.” “No it isn’t,” I shouted back, and off he went in a pet to the bathroom. It wasn’t too loud. I was angry, thinking if the choice was between him and the music at an already considerate volume, it’d be for the music. Just then, Yvann buzzed for a word and I let him up, telling him I wasn’t in a good mood, “We’ve had a spat.” “Things aren’t working out,” or something such, he commented hopefully before leaving me to it.

John was crying about my unwillingness to lie I wasn’t harbouring a fugitive should he be caught. “Why aren’t I worried about it? I don’t think it’s going to happen. There’s no point me saying I’ll say something when I don’t know what I’ll say self-protectively when it’s only conjecture.” The point here is I don’t lie. My man, my guardian daemon, would protect me, “although there was the assailant.” He didn’t protect me from that. Whatever, we’d made up and it was safe to let him go out. He’d wanted me to speak to Yvann who might talk although I’d said Yvann wouldn’t do anything to alienate me.

Yvann wasn’t in. Thus, and possibly by the direction of my man, I bumped into John in Waitrose where he’d been shoplifting as I suspected, having given him £4.33, which, whatever his glib lies, could not possibly pay for the three packets of salmon and the bag I could see the edges of the packets in as well as The Mirror. “Put them back.”

I went to Tesco’s dispirited. He was risking everything on a packet of salmon! I dithered over the can of cola he’d wanted me to buy to go with the brandy I’d bought to get him over the last stages of detoxing. Tesco’s have a three litre own brand for 17p whereas the equivalent coca-cola is £1.78. Tesco’s does have inexplicably gluten in theirs so I, a gluten-freak, couldn’t drink it to dispose of it even if I wanted to, which I would not. I bought a can as asked for 59p. I therefore had change when I came upon him at the corner of the street.

He’d put the salmon back. He’d stolen it because he didn’t feel a man by not contributing anything. In the circumstances of his not being able to claim benefits, it was unavoidable I pay for everything until he got work and I’d rather that than his stealing. I gave him more change to try out the cost of a travel card covering zones 4-2.

He wasn’t back by 12:30. I wasn’t waiting up for him. Through the earplugging I discerned a faint buzzing and let him in at 1:17. He’d visited a friend he hadn’t seen and was offered a couch for the night but he had to come home to me who, he said, have destroyed him by making him love me, a charge I strenuously denied.


About johnbrucecairns

I'm a retired history teacher who's written for most of his life with a book readied for publication.
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