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Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker

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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #45 on: April 27, 2010, 08:37 AM »
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Awh, sorry you lost your court case George ... hope it wasn't too painful.

It could have been worse. The other side were trying to get £6,500 out of us for costs, but they only got £375, and we may get £200 of that back.
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #46 on: April 27, 2010, 12:39 PM »
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #47 on: April 27, 2010, 12:52 PM »
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I suppose the court case could have been worse - fortunately I have never had to be really involved in one. As for cameras, George, for many years Os resisted the urge to 'go digital' but they have become so refined and excellent these days that he changed over 2/3 years ago although his slide landscapes are still in demand.
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #48 on: April 27, 2010, 06:05 PM »
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“her eyes filled with tears and her heart filled with grief”


Oh George !!


OK. Is this better then. I doo get carried away sometimes .....  it’s my artistic streak ....


“They saw her as a skivvy, working for her grandfather, at his Newspaper shop and General Stores in Bishopstoke, on the corner of Hamilton Road and Spring Lane, a menial drudge.
They met in the Spring of 1938, and her mother saw her father, as a saviour come to rescue her from a life of drudgery, but he saw her only as an easy lay and someone to play fast and loose with, but he was careless and in the June made her pregnant and seven months later, had to marry her, to give the baby a name.”
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #49 on: April 27, 2010, 06:07 PM »
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OK. Is this better then. I doo get carried away sometimes .....  it’s my artistic streak ....


“They saw her as a skivvy, working for her grandfather, at his Newspaper shop and General Stores in Bishopstoke, on the corner of Hamilton Road and Spring Lane, a menial drudge.
They met in the Spring of 1938, and her mother saw her father, as a saviour come to rescue her from a life of drudgery, but he saw her only as an easy lay and someone to play fast and loose with, but he was careless and in the June made her pregnant and seven months later, had to marry her, to give the baby a name.”


But George, I loved the “her eyes filled with tears and her heart filled with grief”
... so dramatic  (I did post that I really liked it, but perhaps you missed it) ....
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #50 on: April 27, 2010, 07:10 PM »
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I've only just found this thread.  Will have to catch up.

Can't believe you've been writing this since 1975!!  I realise you've probably been doing it intermittently, but how many drafts have you gone through?
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #51 on: April 27, 2010, 07:23 PM »
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It'll keep you going through those wee small hours Aileen - while us layabouts are in the land of Nod.
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #52 on: April 28, 2010, 01:12 AM »
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It'll keep you going through those wee small hours Aileen - while us layabouts are in the land of Nod.
Have to start going to bed earlier and stop this bad habit.  Getting up at lunchtime is not a good idea.  Anyway it'll start getting lighter and lighter in the mornings up here - 3 am in mid-summer, so if I'm not tucked up while there's still some darkness, I could have problems getting to sleep.

Strange how just a few hundred miles can make such a difference to the length of daylight.  In the past it's driven me bananas when play at Wimbledon has had to stop because of fading light, while the sun was still shining here!  Thank goodness for the roof.
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #53 on: April 28, 2010, 06:09 PM »
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Oh definitely NOT .... just loving the drama ..............

Oh, right. Guess I'd better change it back then.
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #54 on: April 28, 2010, 06:13 PM »
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CHAPTER TWO

RECRIMINATION

   Her father and she had never got on. He hadn't even wanted her. She'd been an accident. She'd been the cause of his having had to get married. He hadn’t wanted to marry her mother. His family thought she was beneath him.
They saw her as a skivvy, working for her grandfather, at his Newspaper shop and General Stores in Bishopstoke, on the corner of Hamilton Road and Spring Lane stuck out in the back yard, filling stiff and frozen sacks with coal on cold and frosty mornings, her fingers throbbing with pain, her eyes filled with tears and her heart filled with grief.
They met in the Spring of 1938, and her mother saw her father, as a saviour come to rescue her from a fate worse than death, but he saw her only as an easy lay and someone to play fast and loose with, but he was careless and in the June made her pregnant and seven months later, had to marry her, to give the baby a name.
   And then as if that wasn’t bad enough, after they were married, he had no home for her, and had to take her back to his parents' house to live, at 178 High Street, in Eastleigh, where she wouldn’t have been welcome had she not been pregnant, but where she was a lot less because she was, which put her father off the baby even more.
   And then, just when she was starting to become amusing and interesting with her stumbling attempts to walk and talk the Second World War broke out, and her father was taken away, and she didn’t see him again for six years, which did nothing to bring them closer together, but everything to push them further apart, and then, to make matters worse, after he left to join the army, her mother refused to remain living with his family, and went back to live with her own, which greatly antagonised him, because he disliked her family in general, and his wife’s elder half-sister, Lily in particular, for seeing her as a stuck-up snob, because she didn’t have to skivvy for her keep, like the rest of them, because her absent father provided her with a weekly allowance.
   And then, to make matters worse still, once her mother was back living with her family, she wasn’t able to look after her baby herself, because she was put back to skivvying and the job was passed over to Lily, who already had a new baby of her own to look after, and so Jill hardly saw anything of her mother and grew closer to her Aunty Lily, who lost no time in turning her against her father, for despising men in general, and him in particular, for the shame he'd brought down on her family, so that by the time he came home from the war in 1945, both she and her little brother, David, born in 1941, as the result of a short spell of leave, thought he was going to be a big, black, terrifying ogre, and were quite surprised to find out that he wasn't black, but weren’t surprised to find that he was a big terrifying ogre, nonetheless, made worse by his doing nothing to endear himself to his family, for feeling resentful at their having become attached to his wife’s family, instead of to him and his, and dragged them off to live on the other side of town, and forbade them from ever seeing his wife’s family again, and instead of winning their affection, lost it, and caused them to conspire against him to visit their real family, whenever they could.
   And then when Jill was eleven, she won a place at grammar school, which caused her to feel academically superior and become even more cocky than she was already, for having been brought up the eldest child of four, who'd gone to school first, and done everything else first, and who had got used to bossing everybody else about, including her poor, downtrodden mother, which her father found irritating enough, already.
   And then, upon joining her new class at Barton Peveril grammar school in Desborough Road, just up the road from where she lived in Magpie Lane, on the other side of Fleming Park, she found that it contained a boy from Bishopstoke whom she was able to invite back to her house, with a view to having him invite her over to his, so that, with his connivance she was able to visit her Aunty Lily instead, which device her father suspected, which annoyed him even more.
   And then, when she was eighteen and her mother died tragically of thrombosis at 41, and her brother left home to escape his father's malicious tyranny for having been the butt of his resentment all his life, for having been the centre of his mother’s affection, which had made his father pathetically jealous, she wondered what to do for the best.
   She would have liked to leave home too, and go over to live with her Aunty Lily, but realized that it wasn’t practical, because, since her two cousins had grown up and been given rooms of their own, there wasn't enough room for her and since her Aunty Lily had taken over running the Shop and started to row with everybody about how to do it, there wasn't a lot of peace either, whereas, there was plenty of room at home, and, since her father had decided to be pleasant to her in a sterling attempt to persuade her to stay to do the cooking and the housekeeping, for being unable to do it himself, things had become peaceful too, and so she decided to stay, to enjoy her newfound importance and to see how things would go, and found that they went quite well for two years, until she met her new boyfriend, Bob, and then they didn’t go very well at all.
   Upon hearing that Bob was ten years older than she, her father immediately assumed that he was after only one thing, sex, and that once he got it, he would make his immature, naive daughter pregnant, dump her and leave him holding the baby, and so to reduce the danger, tried to make sure that she got in on time at night when she went out on dates, only to find that his attempts didn’t go down very well.
Jill didn’t like being bossed about and couldn’t understand what was going on. Her father was treating her like a child, when she was nearly 21, and ran the house, and was an adult who was entitled to stay out late sometimes if she wanted to, especially at weekends and so ignored him, until one Saturday, when she came in a bit later than usual, for having got involved with Tom in a long conversation, sitting in his car, outside of the house, after coming home from a dance she found her father waiting up for her, absolutely fuming, and saying that if she didn’t start to get in on time, he would kick her out, which she understood, even less.
How could he kick her out?
He couldn’t. He needed her to do the cooking and the housework.
What was wrong with him? She didn’t know, and so went over to her Auntie Lily’s to see what she thought, and was shocked to hear her say.
   'Oh well, that's typical of him. Just because he got your mother pregnant, when she was your age, and didn't want to marry her, he thinks everybody else is the same, and that Bob is going to make you pregnant, and not want to marry you. It's a complete insult. I wouldn't put up with it, if I were you. You should go back now and collect your things and come over here and live with us. Uncle Dick will give you a lift in the car if you like.'
   Jill couldn't believe it. It was indeed a complete insult. How could her father think that she would sink to the same depths of depravity as her grandmother, her mother, and he, and have sex with a man to whom she wasn’t married, when she was a devout Christian and a Sunday-School teacher, who went to Church every Sunday and condemned immorality wherever she found it? She didn't know. It didn't make sense.
   'Are you sure he's thinking that?' she asked, doubtfully.
   'What else could he be thinking?' Lily replied, contentiously, only too pleased at being able to cause trouble for her hated enemy. 'He's not going to kick you out for nothing, is he? He won't be able to cope without you. He must think you're up to something serious, mustn’t he, and what else is there?'
   'What else, indeed?' Jill thought, unhappily. 'Nothing. It had to be that. She felt sick. She'd never got any affection or credit from her father. All she'd ever got was criticism and neglect, and now he was suspecting her of depravity, as well. It was terrible.
   'So what am I going to do then?' she asked plaintively, 'I can't start getting in on time, can I, or it will just seem like an admission of guilt, won’t it?'
   'Yes it will,' Lily replied, divisively, ‘the best thing you can do is tell him the truth, without letting him know that you're aware of his depraved suspicions, and just say quite genuinely, "It's very kind of you to show so much concern for my welfare but you don't need to worry, because when I go out with Bob he’s so protective and caring that I’m in no danger at all." and he should be completely reassured and stop worrying', knowing precisely the opposite would be the case.
   'Oh yes,' Jill said, 'I hadn't thought of that. That should do the trick. I'll do that then', completely unaware of the trap she was walking into.
   Len was fuming. His daughter was driving him right round the bend. Instead of coming in on time, as he’d told her to, she’d just come up with some lame excuse about being in no danger when she went out with Tom because he was so protective and caring, as if that was likely!
It was utterly infuriating. He was on the horns of a dilemma. He was being forced to choose between letting his naive daughter stay out late, and carry on with an older man, and get pregnant, with all the trouble that would cause, and throwing her out and losing his cook and housekeeper, with all the trouble that would cause.
He couldn’t believe it. What was he supposed to do? He had no idea, but found a few days later that he didn’t have to worry about it anymore because the problem solved itself, but not in the way he would have liked, but precisely the opposite. Jill came home so late the following Saturday, that he was so fuming when she came in through the front door at 2am. that he completely lost his temper, and, before he knew what he was saying, told her to leave.
   Jill was completely stunned. Despite her genuine reassurances that she was in no danger at all when she went out with Tom, her father had still kicked her out. He didn't care about her, at all. All he cared about was his own pathetic suspicions. But she could see that he didn’t really want her to leave.
He didn't really want to lose his cook and housekeeper. He really wanted her to go down on her bended knees and apologize for staying out so late and beg him to let her stay, but she wasn’t going to.
She hadn’t done anything wrong and she wasn’t going to pretend that she had, and if she left, it wouldn’t be she who suffered, but he, for having to do all his cooking and housekeeping himself, and then, in the fullness of time, when he found that she hadn’t got pregnant, he would suffer even more for realizing that he’d kicked her out for nothing, which would be hilarious.
She couldn’t help laughing. It would be poetic justice.
   But that had been ten years earlier and now the shoe was on the other foot and she had become pregnant by a man to whom she wasn’t married, and not just as a single woman, but as a married one, which was a thousand times worse, and so now it wouldn’t be she who was going to think it hilarious that her father had got everything wrong, but his family and he who were going to think it was hilarious because he had got everything right.
She would become a laughing stock.
   It would be anathema.
It couldn't happen and she could hardly believe what had. How had she got pregnant so easily? She hardly knew.
 
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #55 on: April 28, 2010, 06:24 PM »
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I've only just found this thread.  Will have to catch up.

Guess you didn’t notice my earlier discussion with the Daisy and Jan.

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Can't believe you've been writing this since 1975!!

Me neither.

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I realise you've probably been doing it intermittently,

Only if I get interrupted by campaigns, otherwise it’s full time every day, for 35 years.

 
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but how many drafts have you gone through?

That’s an interesting question. It hasn’t been so much a matter of re-writing drafts as making discoveries, by noticing the implications of what I’d written.

Chapter 20 used to be Chapter 1, and then 19 new Chapters grew in front of it.


Have to start going to bed earlier and stop this bad habit.  Getting up at lunchtime is not a good idea.  

It took me months to stop sleeping in until 2.30pm when I came back from spending a month in Oklahoma City.

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Strange how just a few hundred miles can make such a difference to the length of daylight.  

Yeah. Jill and I spent three weeks touring Scotland and I found it really weird queuing up for haggis and chips in broad daylight with the sun shining at 11.30 at night.
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #56 on: April 28, 2010, 06:44 PM »
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Yeah. Jill and I spent three weeks touring Scotland and I found it really weird queuing up for haggis and chips in broad daylight with the sun shining at 11.30 at night.


 lol
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #57 on: April 30, 2010, 03:39 PM »
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CHAPTER THREE

CAUSATION

   She'd only had sex with Vic, once. Dora, in "The Bell", had had it with her husband hundreds of times without getting pregnant, so why hadn’t she been able to have it just once? Novels were supposed to have some connection with reality, weren't they? And the author, Iris Murdock was supposed to be a highly intelligent woman, wasn’t she? So why has she written such a load of rubbish?
      She didn't know. It was horrendous. She'd been completely led astray. She wished she'd never set eyes on "The Bell". It had dropped her in the mire, right up to her neck and now she wasn’t just pregnant, but, she’d been caught out committing adultery as well, and with no chance of covering it up. She wouldn’t be able to tell her husband the baby was his, because he would know that it wasn’t, because she hadn’t let him have sex for two years. It was appalling.
      She couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been. She could see now that if you want to have sex with another man behind your husband’s back, then you have to have it with him at the same time, just to be on the safe side.
And, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t wanted it, because he had, and at exactly the right time, just a few days after she’d had it with Vic, and unusually for him, had even got a big, stiff erection, with which to have it, which he'd lightly touched up against the back of her legs, through her nightdress, to let her know that he wanted it, but what had she done: let him have it to provide herself with the perfect alibi?
No! Refused to let him have it, and dropped herself in the mire right up to her neck. And she hadn’t even refused politely so as not to offend him too much, just in case she wanted a favour from him, later, as she now did, but with utter disgust, to degrade and humiliate him as much as possible, but what had she achieved? Precisely the opposite. She’d degraded and humiliated herself, instead, by making it impossible for her, to cover up her crime, by having alienated the only person who would have been able to help her do it. It was horrendous.
    She’d been hoist by her own petard. How could it have happened? She hardly knew. The fates had conspired against her and she could put her finger on the very day, when it had all begun.
   It had been six months earlier when she’d gone to a Ouija Board session at a friend's house. She'd thought Ouija Board sessions were supposed to be a bit of a joke, where everybody sat around asking lots of sensible questions but where nobody ever got a sensible answer, but this one had been different, some people had got sensible answers, and so, after a while, she'd thought she would ask a question, too.
   Vic was getting on her nerves trying to pressurize her into leaving her husband. He was complaining bitterly that he'd been waiting for her to leave him, for nine years, but that she was no closer to doing it, now, than she'd ever been, and the waiting was getting him down, and he wouldn’t be able to stand it much longer, and if she didn't hurry up and get on with it, then he would have to leave her and emigrate to Canada and find somebody else, and she’d been highly incensed.
   She didn’t fancy leaving her husband and being branded an adulteress with all the shame and disgrace she would attract, with her father and his family denouncing her as a depraved slut, and her friends at the Church denouncing her as a sacrilegious hypocrite, and she thought he should think himself lucky that she let him see her at all.
      He was supposed to be madly in love with her, but it wasn't very loving to threaten to walk out on her, and go off and marry somebody else! It wasn't very loving at all. It was in fact, very un-loving, and he deserved to be punished, and she’d just worked out how to do it.
   She would ask the Ouija Board some questions about his threat. He wouldn't like that. He wouldn't like everybody knowing his business, and he wouldn’t like becoming the centre of attention, either. He didn't like becoming the centre of attention at the best of times but this would be the worst. All eyes would be upon him. The spotlight would be intense. He would be like a specimen under a microscope, and so when she got the chance, she gave a merry, little laugh and said.
   'Is Vic going to emigrate?' and gave him a quick glance to see how he felt. He looked horrified. She'd hit the mark.
   There were seven of them sat around the large, circular, polished, mahogany table: the host, Brian Sims, and his wife, her brother and his wife, her husband and she, and Vic. Everybody had their index finger placed lightly on the rim of the bottom of an upturned wine glass placed in the middle of the table. The letters of the alphabet were placed around the edge, and the words "YES" and "NO" were fixed on opposite sides. The "YES" was in front of her and the "NO", in front of her husband. Vic was sitting to her immediate right. The glass spelt out answers by sliding across the table, under the influence of the so-called spirit, which was supposed to work through their fingers to make the glass stop at letters, to spell out words, or move directly to the "YES" and "NO" cards to give a quick answer.
   Everybody was fascinated at her question. Nobody had known that Vic was thinking of emigrating, but they did now, and they couldn't wait to hear what the Ouija Board was going to have to say about it.
      The glass started to move. It was moving towards her and the “YES”. The Ouija Board thought Vic was going to emigrate.
   She felt a moment's alarm. What did that mean? It hadn’t occurred to her that the Ouija Board might agree with Vic, but she quickly realized that it meant nothing. The Ouija Board didn't know anything. It couldn’t. It was just a coincidence, besides which it didn't matter what the Ouija Board said, because Vic wasn't listening to the Ouija Board, he was listening to her. He was listening to what she she was saying and he was listening to how she was saying it, and he wouldn't like either. He wouldn't like to hear her talking about his threat, and he would like even less to hear her laughing at it.
   She was ready with her next question. With another merry, little laugh, almost as merry as the first, she asked.
   'Is Vic going to Canada?'
   His head had dropped. He looked sick. Serve him right. He would think twice before he made nasty threats to her again.
   There was a pause, and the glass started to move. It was coming towards her and the "YES", again. The Ouija Board thought Vic was going to emigrate to Canada.
   She felt another moment’s alarm. That was two answers in Vic’s favour. What did it mean? She had no idea, but had no time to think about it, because she had to get on with the next question. It was the most amusing of all. It was about who Vic was going to marry. He hated this subject coming up. It was an old chestnut. She'd pulled his leg about it before. It always made him squirm, and it would now, but before she got the chance to ask it, she found him leaning towards her, and whispering something rather loudly in her ear.
   'Stop asking questions,' he urged.
   She was rather staggered. She would never have expected him to butt in, whilst she was in full flow. He must be desperate, but she wasn't going to stop now. She'd only just started. She couldn't help laughing. If he was feeling desperate now, he'd be feeling a lot worse, by the time she’d finished. There was a lot worse to come, as, with  another merry, little laugh she asked.
   'Is Vic going to get married?'
She shot another quick glance in his direction. He was looking even more sick. Serve him right. He was getting his just desserts. He'd issued his threat to worry and upset her, but now it was worrying and upsetting him, instead. It was poetic justice.
   Having asked her question she sat back to wait for the Ouija Board to reply, but found she didn’t have to wait, because no sooner had she stopped talking than the glass shot across the table like a rocket so fast that she flinched backwards, fearing that it was going to fall off the edge into her lap, but it didn't. It just came to an abrupt halt in front of her and the "YES", again.
Why had it moved so fast? Was it trying to tell her something? Was it trying to emphasize the importance of what it was saying? She had no idea, but it was a bit nerve-racking. It seemed to have a mind of its own, but she couldn’t afford to worry about it, because, now, she was coming to the main question: the question of who Vic was going to marry, but before she asked it, she thought she would build up the tension by asking a subsidiary question first, as with another merry, little laugh she asked.
   'Is Vic going to marry somebody older than he?' She shot another quick glance in his direction. His head had dropped even further. He looked as if he was going to collapse. His embarrassment was complete. Everybody knew that she was older than he, and that if the Ouija Board were to say, “Yes”, in answer to this question, then, it might go on to say that he was going to marry her, in answer to the next, and Vic would die, but it wouldn’t worry her, because she knew exactly how to answer this question, because she’d answered it so many times before. Whenever the question of her being interested in Vic came up, she just laughed hilariously, as if it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard of, and everybody believed that it was, and especially her husband who was particularly easy to deceive on the subject.
      The glass was starting to move. It was moving slowly and falteringly away from her in the direction of her husband and the "NO".
      She couldn't believe it. The Ouija Board was going to say that Vic was not going to marry somebody older than he. It was going to rule her out. It was going to say that he was going to marry somebody else. It was going to agree with his threat, yet again, and she suddenly realized that she was helping it to do it, with her own finger on the glass pushing it away from herself, and so she lifted it imperceptibly to remove her pressure, but it didn't do any good, it just kept moving irretrievably onward. She tried to push it sideways, but that didn't work, either. She just had to sit and watch as it continued to move, slowly and relentlessly, towards her husband and the "NO".
   She felt utterly sick. The Ouija Board had agreed with Vic four times in a row. How could it keep on doing that? She would have thought somebody was pushing the glass, if it were possible, but it wasn't. She'd tried to push it herself. You could push it away from you, but you couldn't push it towards you, and it had gone both ways, and in any case even if somebody were pushing the glass, they wouldn’t have been able to agree with Vic's threat, because nobody knew he’d made it, except they. So what was going on? She didn't know, but she couldn’t help worrying.
   With her next question she tried to maintain her jocular manner, and ask it with another merry little laugh, but it didn't come off. Her laugh fell flat and sounded hollow, as she asked, falteringly.
   'Is Vic going to get married in Canada?'
   She would die if the Ouija Board were to say "yes", again. That would make five answers out of five in Vic's favour. That would be really weird. She watched and waited, in trepidation.
   The glass began to stir and proceeded to move slowly and steadily straight towards her, and the "YES". It had agreed with Vic yet again, and she felt her heart sink. Something weird was going on. What was it? She didn’t know, but she couldn’t afford to worry about it, because she had to press on. She’d come to the main question: "Who was Vic going to marry?", but now that she'd come to it, she was almost too scared to ask. It would require the Ouija Board having to spell out a name, and Ouija Boards weren't supposed to be able to do that, and so if this one could, she would die, but despite her fear, she couldn't stop.
   'Who is Vic going to marry?' she asked, in a whisper, half afraid of the sound of her own voice and praying that the Ouija Board would say nothing in reply.
   There was a long pause and for a moment she thought her prayer had been answered, but then to her horror she saw that it hadn't. The glass was coming back to life. It was starting to slide smoothly and steadily around the table, from letter to letter with no difficulty at all.
   'M-A-R-I ...,' it began, and she felt utterly petrified.
   It was spelling out the name of one of his colleagues from work, about whom, she'd mercilessly pulled his leg in the past. She watched as if mesmerized. Surely it couldn't spell "Marianne", correctly.
   '... A-N-N-E.'
   It had. She felt as if she were in a nightmare, but she had to keep going. She had to know more. She had to push the Oiuja Board to the limit. She had to make it break down. She had to make it grind to a halt. It couldn’t really keep on answering her questions, could it? It didn’t make sense.
   'Will they have any children?' she continued.
   "YES.", it replied.
   'How many?' she snapped back.
   'T-H-R-E-E.' it spelt out.
   'What sex?', she continued, obsessively, like a woman possessed.
   'G-I-R-L-S,' it spelt out, exactly as Vic had told her he wanted, and she suddenly stopped, overwhelmed with panic, as realization began to dawn.
   Now she knew what was happening. Now she knew what she was dealing with. It was utterly terrifying. The Ouija Board wasn't telling her what Vic had said he was going to do. It was telling her what he was actually going to do. It wasn't telling her what he had said to her in the past. It was telling her what he was going to do in the future. The Ouija Board wasn’t reporting on the past it was predicting the future. It was telling her that Vic really was going to walk out on her and go to Canada and marry Marianne, his colleague from work.
   She felt utterly terrified. Her heart was in her mouth. She'd heard everything she dreaded most. Her eyes were filling with tears. She couldn't speak. Her voice had gone. She couldn't continue. She looked around desperately, hoping that somebody else would start asking questions and take the mantle of addressing the Ouija Board from her.
She was covered in sweat and looked as if she were in the throes of a virulent fever and Vic looked the same. They both looked as if they were about to pass out. She'd shown herself up and she'd shown him up, too. She’d turned them both into a public spectacle.
   She felt utterly devastated but what was devastating her more
 wasn't the thought of Vic's leaving her, but the realisation of how much she would miss him if he did. She'd suddenly realized that she wouldn't be able to cope without him. She wouldn't be able to survive. He was all she had. She didn't have anybody else. Nobody else wanted her. Her husband didn't want her. He never had. She'd thought he had at the beginning, but then she'd come to realize her mistake.

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janscribe
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Let's Go!!!

Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #58 on: April 30, 2010, 05:15 PM »
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The saga continues - many thanks George. This is the story of your first divorce - I went through one and fortunately never came near another - I don't envy you suffering any more.
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #59 on: April 30, 2010, 06:03 PM »
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Oh heck ..... chapter 3 and I need to go back and re-read chapter 2 ..... I'm just never going to catch up at this rate .. Very Happy
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