Studs and Stilettos

Lesson 8 - try balsamic vinegar for buttock bites.

The bath is my thinking place and the wine is to dull my thoughts. Hopefully I will strike the right balance and attain oblivion. My plans for a riotous Friday night have gone to the wall because Brutus has given me strict instructions to remain soaking until he gives the all clear and Pippa has an intimate date lined up with her new bod from the hospital. My chance of selecting a potential husband on the darts floor has suddenly evaporated.

I've just got my toe positioned up the hot tap and am slurping the delicious liver destroying amber nectar given by the gods and frowned on by the National Health Service, when there's this terrible noise coming from the sitting room.

If I'm right – and lucky - someone is butchering Samantha with a blunt knife and letting her remain conscious to suffer. She's a-snapping and a-snarling and Brutus is screeching like a starving hyena who's just spied a take-away.

Suddenly the bathroom door crashes open and Brutus bursts in, flushed and tearful, his skin-tight Calvin Klein rubber boxers partly hidden by a smart striped shirt. He's wearing a lemon neck chief so I know he's on the pull.

'Can't I have any peace in this hell hole?' I yell pulling the shower curtain round my head. 'I go to work in hell and come home to hell.'

Brutus is hyperventilating...he can't get his words out so I peep through the curtain.

'What's wrong?'

The poor boy is squatting on the bog seat breathing into Pippa's shower cap trying to control his breathing.

I reach for the towel and get out of the bath.

'It's Ed...he mutters between gasps...'He sat on Samantha...and... and...'

'And she's dead? I ask hopefully.

Brutus shakes his head.

'She's bitten Ed...its horrible. He's got teeth marks and blood all over his....' Brutus suddenly looks coy and points to his derriere.

'Could have been worse.' I say nonchalantly. 'She could have gone for a couple of pomme de terres. So, what are you doing about it and where is this Ed now?'

'There's blood....everywhere...' Brutus can't even stand tomato ketchup because he thinks it may be blood in a bottle.

'Where's Pippa? She's a nurse. She must see this sort of injury every day.'

'Pippa's out with wozzizname...you know.......?'

'Shall I go and look?'

'NO!.No...no...no...no...no...no...!'

'I'll take that as a yes then.'

Brutus clasps my hands together.

'He doesn't want anyone to see him....' he hisses. 'He...he...hasn't come out yet.'

'I'll get back in the bath then.'

'NO!'

'Do you want to get in the bath?'

'No! Don't go out there – I promised Ed....'

'What the hell do you want me to do then Brutus? Call an ambulance?'

Brutus does a little mincy dance of despair. He's useless in a crisis.

'I tell you what, you go and put a tea towel over Ed's head and make him lie down on the sofa and I'll see to his wounds and then I won't know who I'm looking at. Howz about that?'

Brutus flings his arms wide. 'Brillo Brillo.' He kisses my damp forehead and gallops back to the sitting room.

'Are you ready?' It's like hide and seek. 'Coming whether you're ready or not.'