Sunday, August 12, 2007

grief encounter

‘Well,’ said my husband as we emerged blinking from the dark cinema into the late afternoon sunshine. ‘It was lovely to get away from work for a couple of hours’. It had been a lovely surprise when my husband had unexpectedly announced an illicit weekday afternoon trip to the pictures, although sadly his secretary Fabio joining us did have the effect that we couldn’t entirely leave my beloved’s trade at the cinema door. It had been a nice way to spend a couple of hours, an old movie, some popcorn, my husband and his secretary sitting just a few rows in front of me. ‘Interesting choice of film’, My husband said to Fabio, ‘The CGI steam trains were terribly unrealistic but I liked the bit where they sneak off to the pictures to watch an overblown romantic flick when they’re in one themselves that we’ve all sneaked off to see’. Fabio smiled. ‘The director’s cut is better’, he told my husband, ‘Trevor Howard leaves the station tea rooms at the end and gets on a space ship instead of the train back to his wife’. ‘Oh, Men!’ I sighed.

Sometimes I've felt as if I were just a made up character as well, living my life in black and white. Although of course, that being the case, the ending must have already been written when in reality most of the time it seemed more as if someone was merely making all this up as they went along. I just hoped I was a character in some great literary work and not in some stupid blog that only seems to get updated once a week lately. ‘I think those were real steam trains darling’, I said, as the famous dramatic climax of Celia Johnson’s hair falling slightly over her eyes resonated in my imagination. ‘It was made in 1945 you know’, I explained. ‘Oh crikey’, said my husband, ‘and it’s still not out on DVD yet dear?’ he laughed. ‘Probably’ I said ‘Not quite the same though.’ I sighed. My husband shrugged. ‘Of course it’s allegorical you know', I said, ‘all this stuff about them not being free to be together because of the social conventions of the time.’ My husband looked puzzled. ‘ Noël Coward being gay and everything’, I elaborated. ‘Noël Coward was gay?’ he queried. ‘Are you quite sure dear?’ It was almost as if he was teasing me but I knew he would never do that. ‘I’m a woman dear’ I began. ‘We girls can tell gay man a mile off you know’, I said. My husband and Fabio exchanged glances so I could see they were keen to get back to work now.

As we walked across the multiplex car park a gust of wind blew up the dust from the ground. ‘Oh, darling!’ I cried. My husband turned round. ‘I think I have some grit in my eye!’ I said, winking vociferously. ‘Oh dear.’ he began, then hesitated ‘Oh, I get it’, he smiled knowingly, ‘Ok, you win dear, I’ll drive’, and he continued on towards the car with Fabio. After a moment I shrugged my shoulders and as I watched to two men walk away across the tarmac, I thought I really should have been writing SITN that afternoon but my agent had been very quiet lately and nobody reads blogs in august anyway. Anyway, I'd detected that some people had found me too critical of the North on occasion, which was unfair because it is grim up north, and what I really needed was for my friend to come up from London and then she could moan about northerners and I could report what she said and I wouldn’t get the blame. Suddenly, my phone rang. It couldn’t be! ‘Air, hellair!’ said the voice, ‘Rilly, is that you darling? Its your old chum from London who really hates it up north speaking’, the voice continued. ‘Coming up to visit you dear, put the kettle on and see you in a few days, what!’. My husband turned around and look back towards me. ‘We’re going to the pub!’ he shouted, so I took off my shoes and sped after after them. As I got into the car I sighed. My friend was on the motorway on her way, my husband was here with me in the car, and yet strangely I couldn't escape the feeling, and I couldn't escape the song in my head, that I was all by myself...

29 comments:

mutterings and meanderings said...

Rilly, I understand it can indeed be very lonely and friendless when you pee off the locals. Big hugs, darling.

@themill said...

Rilly sweetie, please do be careful. We wouldn't want you upsetting your London friends too.

The thinker said...

Really Rilly,

This is VERY DEEP ..

"Sometimes I've felt as if I were just a made up character as well, living my life in black and white. Although of course, that being the case, the ending must have already been written when in reality ..."

I can see why we had to wait for your latest posting. Obviously you have been considering Einstein's theories on relativity and the whole question of reality. Philosphy ...

What is Life and the meaning of life and what is reality...??
Clever and very deep ..

On a lighter note; are you implying your man is a 'Happy Chappy'?

patsy said...

Philosophical again...We can always trust YOU Rilly dear, to tell it how it really is!
And you must be so delighted that your husband has such a helpful employee,Fabio, who seems to meet his every need?

I Beatrice said...

Now don't you go writing dodgy things about your friends and then having to apologise, will you?


Am worried about your husband though - and vaguely embarrassed about the fact that I never could quite see the charm of Brief Encounter myself... Rather a deadly pair, I always thought. Deadly for Noel Coward, at any rate.

Marianne said...

Poignant, Rilly, poignant. Poor love.

Try Bridget Jones, much more upbeat than Celia Johnson, and she does get her man. Always works for me.

To me, you will always be more than a character in some stupid blog, darling, but isn't it time for a husband transplant?

Ms Baroque said...

Rilly sweetness, I am not liking the sounds of Fabio. He doesn't sound at all northern, but that might not even be a good thing.

You have cheered me immensely with your enormous b&w photograph of the star-crossed lovers. Please don't feel that being black-&-white is a bad thing, it is a classic look that is always fresh and always sophisticated.

Watch out for your London friend, she sounds like someone who could get you into trouble; have you thought of fixing her up with Fabio?

ziggi said...

really Rilly aren't you really real then?

Eats Wombats said...

air hellair! (Loved it. Absolutely)

Oh, but people do read, even in the blog days of August.

Don't say you're going to be another of those celebrity couples not living together! Not loving together is fine, nobody minds about that dear.

Moby's

"Lordy don't leave me
all by myself"

knocks Ms.Dion into a cocked hat

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mPSFDTQ6wdc

Pig in the Kitchen said...

I am a little concerned about Fabio and your husband. There were so many unanswered questions whirling around my head...why two rows in front? Didn't he protest too much about NC being gay? Oh this August heat is getting to me, I can't think straight.
I am reading your august blog. (lower case 'a' is intentional ;-))
Pigx

Hilary said...

Oh Rilly,I hope you will be very,very heppy (sob)

rilly super said...

M&M, you're such a darling, and very kind, and a northerner too which is most strange..

@themill, thankyou for your concern dear, but as you know, diplomacy and sensitivity are my middle names, despite the looks of disaproval from the vicar at the christening

thinker, I would love to say the delay is due to hours of deep philosophical reasoning rather than any alcohol related reasons, but more cynical folks might think it a fib, such is the word we live in, sigh...

patsy, Fabio is a dear and I'm so reassured when they are away that all my husband's vital arrangements are in his hands

Beatrice, it is a bit of a curates egg isn't it, I always think Coward would have liked more free reign to satirise these rather desperate charcters but the director wanted to make a claustrophobic 'noir' drama, shadows on subway walls and huddled agonisings in dark railway compartments, that kind of thing. Coincdentally it came around the same time as one of my (really) all time favourite films, which was quite adventurous as well, a matter of life and death, but that is for another day...

marianne, ah, a husband transplant, not sure if I can get that on BUPA, and not sure if he hasn't transplanted me first, sigh

Ms Baroque, perhaps you are right about being black and white, and another advantage is the hats one gets to wear. Lovely that you came by, you always seem to understand a situation most insightfully dear

ziggi, in the words of a great philosopher 'is this the real life, is this just fantasy, caught in a landslide, no escape from reality...' and if he didn't know then what hope have the likes of us darling?

Mr Wombats sir, thanks ever so for paying a visit. I am reassured now that people do read blogs even in these dog days of 'summer' and I should perhaps be making more of an effort, sigh. perhaps my husband and I are a bit like Burton and Bonham-carter, except with the M1 between our houses instead of a little knock-through corridor, sigh

PITK, I'm sure there is nothing to worry about, really, and all our troubles don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world, as they say,sigh. You are very kind with your August with a lower case A comment dear. I wish I could just pop round and tell you all my troubles around l'aga at your place...

Hilary, thaks for visiting. I seem unable to click on you to find out who you are though so please forgive the delay in my reciprocal visit

and finally, my Darren Brown impression: If someone called Tricia wishes to communicate she can always email me if she doesn't want to leave a comment. I'd love for you to say hello darling...

lady macleod said...

what a life, what a life. What if the movies are real and we are make-believe? What movie would you want to go live in? I do have a feeling you could fill the uh, shoes (cough) of Jessica Rabbit.

The Secretary said...

Rilly, I will come and visit. I am a Northerner but I now live down south (for longer than I lived oop north). I can come and see you and moan about the north and the south for you.

@themill said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
@themill said...

Sorry about that Rilly. For some reason the comment meant for WITN ended up at your place. Bloody northern GPS.

Flowerpot said...

very Deep, Rilly. Much too deep for the likes of us here Cornish folk. But don't forget, when you get to the pub, get your G&T yourself. Make it a large one.

I Beatrice said...

Am dying to know what that other film was?

And also to learn more about the 'Peter Greenaway film' that you mentioned on my comment page..

I drew a complete blank on that one.

rilly super said...

lady macloed, I fear I am too well rooted in gritty kitchen sink social realism to envisage any such escape, sigh

secretary, that is a very kind offer my dear but would your moaning be suitably sincere for this blog or might people think you are just making it up? I have a reputation to think of you know...

@themill, GPS doesn't work this far north, too near the magnetic pole you know, or is that compasses?

flowerpot, you are so kind but I fear the only thing deep in my life is my despondency, sigh

Beatrice, sorry, should have put speech marks on 'a matter of life and death' for that is the film. The Greenway flick I was thinking about was I think 'draftsman's contract', a much recommended one to see, although most of it way above my head I fear, sigh

The thinker said...

Message for Eats Wombats - this link is dead - I only get a notice from Blogger that page not found. I used to read via RSS feed but no postings for months?!

Eats Wombats said...

Message for the thinker, with apologies to Strife:

blog moved to http://wombatdiet.net

This Fabio chap... a dear?

Arrangements?!

Can you think about this for me. I had a very traditional upbringing.

dulwichmum said...

Oh Rilly, it sounds so dreadfully lonely where you are. I think we need to organise a spa weekend. I agree with Marianne, it is sooo time for a husband transplant!

Drunk Mummy said...

Dear Rilly, your friend from London isn't called Dolly Messiter is she?

Martin said...

Appreciate your very well written post!

Stay at home dad said...

Rilly, I'd take a leaf from Fabio's favourite song. You will survive ...

Omega Mum said...

Of course you're in black and white. You're up North. You only get life in colour once you've passed the Watford Gap. Sorry to break it to you so brutally, but somebody had to. Incidentally, if you want any tips about upsetting people, do get in touch. I've managed entire PTAs, two book clubs, a few dog breeders and my in laws, without even having to resort to geographic slurs. And that's just since getting back on Sunday. Chin up, anyway. Not too far, though, or you'll step in the black pudding slurry.

Sir James Beiggelschwarz said...

Never so alone as when we are not alone.

debio said...

oh rilly, having just returned from dear old blighty I must conclude that the whole UK is in black and white - could this just be down to the atrocious Summer? I hope so but fear otherwise.

Great to catch up - I find Fabio amusing - does he freelance?

Clare said...

I like it here. I was directed here by Ally from Observer Woman Makes Me Spit, who recommended it highly.