“What about we make an early night of it, Sid?” asked Freda, without much hope.
Sid looked briefly away from the television set and cocking one eye suspiciously asked, “What for, I’m not tired?”
“No, well, I just thought it’d be nice,” warbled Freda in what she hoped was a sultry manner, but hope had died even before it was properly born.
Sid had two standard answers to her requests, the one he’d just used, “I’m not tired,” or alternatively, “I’m too tired.”
“Na,” said Sid, slurping from his glass of ale and returning his gaze to the television set, “I’m watching the replay of the game.”
Making one last, but she knew vain endeavour, Freda tried wheedling. “Come on Sid, we haven’t done it for a long time.”
“My God, you’re not on about that again, are you? It’s disgusting at your age. What are you, a sex maniac?”
That speared Freda to the heart. “Sex maniac!” she exploded, “it’s two years since we did it and even then you didn’t make me come.”
Sid, secretly filled with guilt about his low level sexual performance, and knowing he couldn’t, as he put it, “get it up any more,” decided that attack was the best form of defence; “Why the bloody hell don’t you get someone else to fuck you and stop bothering me.”
In saying this he felt secure in the fact that Freda was fifty five years old and therefore, in his view, beyond getting a lover. “In any case,” he thought, “she’s always gone on about faithfulness to the marriage vows, so she’d never try it.”
As if to confirm his views Freda wailed, “How could you say such a thing to me, Sid, me that’s always been faithful?” She burst into tears.
“Aw, for God’s sake turn off the waterworks, Freda, I want to hear the commentary.”
“Eooow,” cried Freda, “I wish I could turn off the waterworks, every bloody tap in the house is dripping.”
“All right, all right,” yelled Sid, “when I’ve got time I’ll change the bloody washers, now let me watch this in peace.”
“You’re always saying, ‘When I’ve got... อ่านทั้งเรื่อง
