I always suspected it might end in tears.
My friend had such high hopes: a new relationship!
Her name is Hannah. He tells me she is American, probably from the east coast, mid-50s. She has a no-nonsense style that he finds very alluring. A bit domineering for my taste, but it takes all sorts. If she has any children I think she must be estranged from them, since her career takes her away from home for weeks on end. That, of course, is what brought them together: their love of travel.
He'd been feeling lost for quite some time; not sure what direction to take; feeling lonely. So when he was introduced to Hannah he thought life was really going to take a turn for the better. And so it did, for a while. Lots of new places, new adventures. Everyone remarked how much happier he looked, with a new spring in his step. He was always saying, "We went there; we saw that". He was never at home. You should have seen his garden!
Then .... it was bound to happen. He started to notice that she had quiet spells, not saying anything. He wondered if he had done something to annoy her: forgotten her birthday perhaps. He began to suspect she had moods. Then one day as they were driving around she said, "Turn right", and he found they had turned onto a dirt track, and after a mile or so of increasing anxiety on his part they entered a farmyard. Well, my friend was naturally very upset, and he stopped listening to anything she said.
He soon became very depressed. I wondered about suggesting he wrote to Marinella Forstrup in the "Guardian": perhaps she could give advice? But who knows where that might lead?
So I've given him a new road atlas for his birthday. He'll be better off with that.
In the car
a new voice
she who must be obeyed
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