Continue the story.....

[poppy]

when you intend to find some gainful employment! I need to pay rent, electricity and gas bills, not to mention my hairdresser, beautician, masseuse, wax technician and manicurist! And the cleaner has said she won't come again if I don't pay her,' Clothilde wailed.

'Look,' I said

[lunababymoonchild]

waving my valuable books under her nose. I sat her down and explained absolutely everything to her, missing out the lovely Pythagoras, naturally. She then explained how she managed to find me and by the time that was all over it was morning and time to go to the Wigtown Auction House to auction what was now our books. Just as we made to set off ……….

[itsmeagain]

, my phone beeped. A text from Pythagoras,  drunk, sleepy, and hungover.

'Where are you love? I hope you are still dreaming of my firm round...'

'Who's texted you..?' , came the enquiring refrain from Clothilde. I 

[poppy]

quickly deleted the text and said 'Wrong number.'

She looked suspicious but couldn't prove anything so let it drop ... for now. 

We finally arrived at Wigtown Auction House and wonder of wonders, it was open! There was an odd little man bustling round, dressed in a loud plaid suit and a flat cap, looking very self-important and bumptious. 

Clothilde marched up to him and ...

[itsmeagain]

said ' we are  Chlothilde and John Revolting, me of UK, him via all the world, and we want to see some books.' 'Oh, I thought you were attempting to sell me insurance', he said, a broad grin crossing his face.

'Jimmy Flatulent, manager of this, the finest book emporium in Wigtown. Let me see the books.'

I handed him a neatly wrapped parcel.

It was opened , to reveal wondrous books, authors such as Dickens, Woolf, Hardy,  Dinesen, and so many more. Lifting 'How to prevent gerbil flatulence', by G. Ladeye,  along with Great Expectations, he murmured, ...

[poppy]

'Great Scott! This Ladeye is a first edition! I'll give you a fiver for the others, they're a dime a dozen, but this Ladeye! I'll have to get a second opinion. Remarkable ... so rare ... much sort after by gerbil fanciers ... a rare treasure ... ' he trotted away murmuring gleefully to himself.

'It better be good,' Clothhide said through clenched teeth, 'or else!' I began to think longingly of ...

[itsmeagain]

having twenty pounds to spend on spuds, all the mash with chives, salt and pepper chips, boiled potatoes,batatas  murros from Portugal, spuds spuds..

Edited September 30, 2023 by itsmeagain

[lunababymoonchild]

when he came back again with a wide grin on his sonsy face. 'I contacted a man I know, who knew someone .....' he began 'Get to it!' shouted the other half 'right, well, the thing is ..................' he spluttered whereupon Clothilde grabbed him by the throat. 'My sweet' I pleaded 'after he's given us the news, pleeeeeaaase' I said, batting my eye-lashes at her 'Oh, yeah' she replied, loosening her grip so that he could breathe. 'Speak' she hissed at him and he did so, at great length. Long story short, Clothilde actually forced him to hand over the best part of £1m into a bank account that she kept off-shore.  Before she relented she checked the account in her own special way and then let him go. I was stupified! 'Darling, Clothide' I said, tenderly. '*&^~@#, off' she replied and started running. Just then ..............

[itsmeagain]

she ran so swiftly that hey , you know, thankfully I'd not ever catch her up..oh what

[poppy]

the heck! Being broke was worth it if I was finally shot of Clothilde, the she-dragon. Now I could ...

[itsmeagain]

spend the money I would receive for my books.

I returned to a pensive Jimmy Flatulent.

'I must say,old gent, I do find your volume ' Perils of a Pot Addict', by Ava Joint, terribly engaging. You see old boy, I spent time in Sudan, travelling in the '80s, and...'

'How much..?..' I demanded, wanting money.

'For the non classic bull, I'll give you  800.56 in sterling, for the classics, go to Classical Book  House on Phlegm Avenue, Wigtown Rd.' I received my 800 quid, wondering who'd buy  'Flies and their uses' by Gunnar Sorensen. 

I strolled down to the Classical Book House. In 

[lunababymoonchild]

the lobby I found Gunnar Sorensen. I recognised him from his picture on the back of the book. I asked him to sign the book, which he did, and then went in search of whomsoever it was that was to buy the book. After a while I found 'Arfur Chance (really? Yes, really. I was premature .....................) who appraised the book volubly. I held my breath as I waited, far too long in my opinion but I wanted a good appraisal and felt that I would have to wait until he was all faffed out, however long that took. Soon a crowd had gatherd and the bids started. As the price climbed I pointed out that the book had been signed and one bidder out-bid the rest with an amount that brought a gasp from the whole crowd. 'Arfur looked pointedly at me and asked if I'd accept. 'Absolutely' I replied and, long story short, I took the moeny and run. 'This will do me' I thought 'and stuff the wife'. Then ...............

[poppy]

I remembered the lovely Pythagoras who I'd abandoned back on page 13. First I'd celebrate my winnings with a slap up feed, then I'd go and search for her. A hot shower wouldn't go amiss either, I'd been feeling decidedly itchy since my night in the dosshouse. Bed bugs, I thought, or at the very least, fleas. Putting my afflictions aside for the time being, I spotted a little cafe called The Spunky Spuddy. Just the ticket! I ordered a large plate of ...

[itsmeagain]

chips, red chilli sauce, with a side of peas. 

Having engulfed the food, I went next door to Flora's Wash up den, a house of washes, scalding hot water, suds, soap, loofah, and excellent hygiene. I asked how much for a good scrub..?.

'Don't you want a cup of cider?', asked the woman on reception,  'we have UK Old Gold, Stinking Footsore, or Chilblain Medical. Are you...

[lunababymoonchild]

kidding? No, I just want a hot bath, a good shave and some peace and quiet.' I replied. I bought my toilette goods, hired a towel (a very big towel), a bath robe (a very big bath robe), pool shoes and a mirror and was shown into a private - no sharing for me, I wasn't joking when I said I wanted peace and quiet - room containing a bath, already running and clearly scalding hot and therefore much steam, which, as we all know, is good for the sinuses. And there I stayed, pondering my belly-button, until I was wrinkly in a too-long-in-the-bath way and a decided shade of unflattering pink. I would have stayed there too, having thought myself out of all stress and strife and having digested my chips, red chilli sauce, and side of peas. I then realised that I was, once again, hungry, so, reluctantly, I had to get out of the bath and dry myself. When I left my private room I remonstrated with reception about not being served food on demand, reception told me that they did not have the staff for that and anyway if they did that nobody would get out of the bath ever and then Flora's Wash Up Den would  be out of business in a very short time. As it was, reception thought that 5 hours in a scalding hot bath was long enough for anybody, and yes, I was welcome to talk to management about it but I'd have to come back when it wasn't 3am and dark because management ................................. At this point I lost interest and went to look for an all night diner, should Wigtown have one. Just as I was turning up my collar against the rain ('does it ever stop', I thought and then remembered why it was I had left Scotland altogether) just then ......................

[itsmeagain]

a man in a pink and lavender overcoat, Burberry...

[poppy]

by the look of it, topped off by an incongruous looking scarlet turban, sidled up to me and opening his coat displayed an impressive collection of ...

[lunababymoonchild]

watches for sale. '*&@%$$ off' I swore at him and, pulling my coat tighter around me, walked off into the rainy nightmare. So much for rest and relaxation I thought. Never mind, if I remember rightly there's a very nice Choke and Puke not far from here and I'll be able to get out of the rain at least. Sure enough, just round the corner Cheryl Choke and Patty Puke had opened, and then exended since my last visit, an all night eating establishment selling everything in the way of potato with accompanying side dishes and much in the way of hot, sweet builder-strength tea. Just what I needed! Taking off my wet coat and Fedora hat (which I had clearly acquired surreptitiously from somewhere, probably Flora's, and was convinced that it would not re-Fedora itself) I settled into a high backed settle and perused the menu. Sheryl and Patty liked their establishment to be well heated so it wasn't long before I was dry, my coat was dry and to my astonishment, the Fedora not only dried but did indeed re-Fedora itself. The potato fare was absolutely exceptional. Very soon I was feeling very happy indeed, having regained my former bath-time relaxation. Then I remembered why it was so difficult to leave Scotland. I sighed and opened a newspaper, then .......................

Edited October 4, 2023 by lunababymoonchild

[itsmeagain]

, to my horror, saw that the Tories are still....

[lunababymoonchild]

in power. The shock nearly killed me! I put the newspaper down and succeeded in regaining my equilibrium, in the heat. I really like it here, I thought as my eyes started to close. Then ………

[poppy]

my reverie was rudely interrupted by a rather rough shake to my shoulder.

'Hey mate! ye canae be sittin here aw nicht unless ye're eatin somethin'!' bawled Patty. 'We're no a dosshouse ye ken!'

So I sighed and ordered another...

[lunababymoonchild]

truck-driver's portion of all things potato and a truck-driver's size mug of builder-strength very hot sweet tea. Just waiting for these made me feel better and I decided that I was going to eat myself into oblivion, until ................

[itsmeagain]

the article in the Sun about being overweight due to mash spuds, really made me think. After all, it's not...

[poppy]

the physique I was aiming for if I was to keep the fair Pythagoras. Which suddenly made me realise I hadn't had any contact with her for hours ... or was it days? It was all becoming a blur. I decided to call her immediately.

'Wha... WHO?' a bleary voice answered. Then 'Do you know what bloody time it is!!?' she shrieked.

I looked nervously at my watch ...

[lunababymoonchild]

and realised that it was still in the early hours of the morning. Then I realised that Pythagoras did not know where I was. Or for that matter, I didn't know where she was. Was that a man's voice in the background, albeit sleepily, asking what was going on, in an angry tone? I decided that I didn't want to find out so hung up and switched off the phone. Just as I did so the potato dish was served and, fattening or not, potatoes were altogether more important, I decided. Besides which, it wasn't the potatoes themselves that were fattening it was the lashings of fattening accompaniments that lead to weight gain and, still hungry, I neither cared about putting on weight or the admittedly lovely, Pythagoras. I was warm, dry, eating my very favourite dish and with another man-size mug of hot sweet tea I was blissfully happy (and that's all it took, I thought).  Just as I was settling down to digest my very marvellous and favourite meal ............