Chapter Five (Marital confusion)

‘Any joy?’ Paula said smiling as he entered the house.

‘No Joy wasn’t there today.’


‘I said Joy wasn’t there today.’

‘Who’s Joy?’

‘The woman that works there, the one whose son is in prison and her husband works abroad….or so she says. He hasn’t been home for six months now she says. Reckons he’s seeing someone else and…’

‘What the hell are you talking about? I was asking if you’d had any joy getting a memory card.’

‘Oh right, yeah, got one right here.’ Phil exclaimed proudly as he pulled his new acquisition from the bag and showed it to Paula.

‘How come you went to Sainsbury’s?’ Paula asked.

‘Just fancied a change’ Phil said ‘I think I might go there more often, keep an eye on their tomato puree you know.’

Paula looked at him bemused, particularly when he pulled a tube of tomato puree from the bag.

‘Next to the tins of chopped tomatoes’ he said ‘sensible place, must make a note of it.’

As he went off to find a notepad Paula simply shook her head. Asking really wasn’t worth the effort, so she didn’t.


Chapter Six (or Chapter One if you just want to read about cats)

Actually that should read cat not cats as Phil and Paula only had one cat but, as it appeared to have multiple personalities, maybe the plural is more apt. Biggles took the first three letters of his name very seriously and gorged himself silly to live up to it. At parties he would introduce himself as BIGgles which never failed to garner respect and a few turned heads from the females in the room. However when they realised he was probably referring to his being overweight they soon turned their heads back again.

Biggles loved food and he loved to eat. The whole process was a delight and he appeared to never be full, much to Phil and Paula’s despair. Phil joked that he worried about not feeding Biggles for thirty minutes then falling asleep in case he woke up with feline gnashers gnawing at his (g)nether regions. He wasn’t far wrong though but, fortunately for his lopsided testicles, Biggles had other sources of income because, let’s be honest, income for cats, is food.

And Biggles LOVED food.

If a cat flap wasn’t fitted to the back door Phil really would have been in trouble but that cat flap gave Biggles a whole world of tasty treats to seek out and consume. A quick jump up on the wall, a gentle jump down via a lower wall and the world was Biggles’ oyster and she did love oysters. Now that had been a good weekend. Not for the humans, but definitely for Biggles.

Cats don’t normally get given oysters but Phil had bought a load from Tesco once (when he was searching for a certain tomato based product). The local Tesco had put them on the shelves, grossly misjudging the local market and were left with a whole load to sell off cheap. Phil, being the romantic sort, thought he couldn’t go wrong with those many aphrodisiacs and had proudly plonked them on the table in front of Paula saying,

‘Look what I got for you baby, stand back and brace yourself’ in what he thought was a tough but sexy American accent.

‘Why are you pretending you’re from Wales’ Paula asked him earnestly ‘and what the hell have you brought some seashells home with you for and why are they for me and….brace myself?’

‘But….they’re oysters…’ muttered Phil ‘they’re an aphrodisiac….I thought….errrr…..well, you know….’

Paula stood up, pouted, posed provocatively and said,

‘Well get the damned things open then, I’m hot as hell’

‘I just need a poo first’

And the moment had gone….

One poo and many frustrating minutes later all the oysters remained firmly entrenched in their shells and Biggles wandered by, shaking his head at the bizarre sight of his humans sat in their underwear using a variety of sharp implements to try and open some shells. Then, one cracked open, just a little….but Biggles’ nasal passages were quickly filled with the salty smell of the sea that could only mean one thing, FISH!

Now come on, you can’t expect a cat to be able to distinguish between fish and seafood or maybe because it was FISH and not merely fish it actually does knowingly encompass both.

However, Biggles was far from happy that this wonderful scent didn’t appear to be working out in the way it should. The humans seemed to be actually wanting to consume said FISH…..themselves?!?! What was going on?!?!

Biggles meowed using his cutest meow, purred using his most affectionate purr and even nestled up against both their bare sets of legs in the most adorable manner. But even this didn’t work….they didn’t appear to notice he was there….the world had apparently gone mad.

Mmmmm…..those toes look tasty…..but then order was brought back to the world, sanity crept back into the room and the toes stayed un-chomped as two almost naked humans exclaimed both at the same time,


At the same moment two halves of the same oyster flew floor-wards and a grateful moggy wolfed them down in an instant. The same purring and cuteness that had failed so badly last time seemed to work again as a hammer was fetched to smash open the rest of the apparently ‘wretched’ things and soon the back garden was awash with shattered shells and an array of things that Biggles didn’t give a damn what they looked like fortunately as he wolfed them down.

When he eventually returned, satiated and happy, to the living room he could only smile wryly as he realised that aphrodisiacs didn’t always work in humans as Paula and Phil were sat at opposite ends of the sofa looking somewhat green. Thankfully they both had clothes on now. Biggles wondered if he should offer them catnip.

And that story evolved simply out of me mentioning the word oyster….I should be more careful what aquatic based animals I mention in future or we’ll never get to the end of this chapter never mind the end of the book. You’re probably wondering why I’m blathering on about Biggles anyway but he does have an important role to play and I think it’s important that we establish his character as we go. If he was human would you question this chapter in the same way? Hmmm… Hmmmm….

Right, so, other food incomes…..

The main one was looking cute whilst standing by the food bowls. I’ve tried this myself but, to be honest, I wasn’t successful. I know I’m not cute but I hope my wife thinks so but my placing some bowls on the floor and squatting next to them still didn’t get me fed. I did get called a daft tit though, even after I’d explained the obviously logical reason why I was down there, so it wasn’t all bad. You should hear what I get called when I do something daft! Or maybe you shouldn’t….

Anyway, Biggles could sit for hours by his food bowls although it rarely lasted that long especially when someone was in the kitchen. For Paula it was the cuteness whilst for Phil it was the bloody cat getting under my bloody feet all the time just sitting there the bloody thing all it wants is bloody food the bloody greedy thing. Or words to that effect. Either way it worked every time.

Biggles had also conned a neighbour into providing him with treats and would pop round when he needed extra sustenance. This relationship was on a very much one-way system where the neighbour gave and Biggles took. And gave nothing back other than a sneer. The neighbour had tried many times to stroke Biggles but he was having none of that and would back away if approached. The neighbour was eventually content with the thank you look as Biggles left….or that’s how that look was interpreted. Who says dogs are cleverer than cats??

Basically, Biggles ruled. No other cats came near the house and Biggles ate. And ate. Well, enough to keep him going until teatime anyway. But Biggles was still as thin as a rake and this despite sleeping for about 37 hours a day, or so it seemed. Oh to have that metabolism myself! The only time he didn’t stay still was when someone wanted to photograph him…..

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About the author

Fresh from failing to be an actor, a singer and retaining a full head of hair Glyn is now attempting to be a photographer and a novelist. He has taken more pictures today than he has written words of his novel in the last six months. Some of them he regards as okay..

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