Monday 6th August – Bunting, Piss and Cheese
We sat outside the bar surveying the interbreds. Jesse made us some pasta which was tasty, and eased my funny tummy for a moment. And then it didn’t. I rushed back to the apartment clutching my Gary glitter and praying I would make it. I did. A huge sigh of relief was followed by utter despair – we had no toilet paper. As I started to rip out pages from Jolyon’s classic car magazine he arrived home. He found some tissues in the kitchen and kicked them into the toilet.
As I walked out Jolyon rushed in and slammed the door. He screamed as he realised I had used the tissues he had given to me. After giggling to myself I rang Jesse. I was watching the synchronized swimming when I heard a French man say something out loud and then ducked as a toilet paper was thrown into the apartment. It reminded me of feeding time at the zoo. I grabbed the roll and threw it into Jolyon. It was too late. Classic Car Magazine had bitten the dust!!
It was time to pack. I carefully wrapped each bottle of wine with a pair of my knickers and other clothes. I then placed each bottle and item of clothing in a bag and then wrapped bubble wrap around it (thankfully Jesse had some in his kitchen). Jolyon threw his three damp items of clothing into his man bag and carried on watching TV. He took down the Euro bunting and tucked it into his wallet.
After a quick shower we headed back to the bar for our last night. Fred the alcoholic had still not been since his drinking competition with Jolyon which worried some of the locals, mostly Jesse as he was a good customer. The cough mixture woman was sitting in the corner coughing up balls of phlegm and loudly spitting them into the street. The man-woman with the oily overalls, short hair and moustache was smoking Gitanes and talking to a red-headed woman with tattoos and hairy nostrils. Sergio drove past and waved.
We dodged the ball of phlegm and took a seat at the bar.
Jesse and Coco joined us as we opened a bottle of Rose. We discussed Jesse’s imminent organ transfer and hoped our little visit had helped in some way take his mind of it. He remained silent. Coco took pictures and sat down to speak to me. I nodded and grinned. I have never understood anything Coco has said to me. We ordered another bottle and asked for the bill. Jesse and Coco disappeared. And then returned with a wad of paper. I was scared.
The bill brought tears to my eyes and a glint in Jesse’s. I could not believe how much we had spent in only 4 days – it worked out to nearly £100 per day. Jesse however thought it was Christmas and grinned like a Cheshire cat. I watched as Jolyon pulled out his damp stinky wallet. He pulled each Euro note out individually and placed it on the table for Jesse. Instead of the crisp texture usually associated with a note, these were flimsy and damp and smelt wretched. Jesse picked up the notes, his nostrils were wide and quivering, and for a moment I thought I saw him retch. Job done. We continued drinking.
Coco was still talking to me and my neck was beginning to ache with all the nodding I was doing. I noticed a rather large ugly man walked in with a midget like woman. He smelt mouldy. Coco jumped up and went to speak to him. After ten minutes she took the large man outside and returned with two bags which she gave to me and Jolyon. In pigeon English she announced that these were presents for us both. We opened the bags and our nostrils were assaulted by the smell of the largest piece of mouldy cheese I have ever set eyes on. It was the size of a Frisbee. I felt a little faint, and thought I might vomit on her. Jolyon had suddenly lost his colour. We thanked Coco and placed the cheese in the bag. Then legged it.
At the apartment I watched as the shutter ascended. Jolyon was swaying his bag of cheese in the moonlight and I was wondering how on earth we would get it home. The cough mixture lady walked past and we witnessed the most grotesque ball of phlegm leave her mouth and hit the wall aside the shutter. She then delved into her cardigan pocket and pulled out a small bottle of cough mixture. I watched her guzzle the liquid greedily and then cough loudly.
I walked with haste through the sitting room trying not to inhale my brother’s fumes and leapt into bed. I read a chapter of my book and took a final suck on my mint which resulted in me coughing so hard I front-bottom dribbled. I rearranged my pillow and resumed sleep. Just as I was nodding off I heard Jolyon sneeze three times and then fart. I had a sudden empathy for Cath his girlfriend. The poor poor woman. I wiped away the lonely tear and fell asleep.
Countdown to hometime.
I awoke to a glorious day. I walked into the sitting room and rushed to open the window and shutter. He lay in his pit, on his back, wheezing. An overflowing ashtray was on the floor alongside a pair of his trousers and one lonesome black sock. All around me was putrid and smelly. We had no milk or water and the fruit I had purchased a few days ago had gone off. The smell from the cheese and Jolyon was too much for me to take. I grabbed my bag and went outside.
I walked over the road and into the park. It was beautiful and just as I sat down to update my blog I heard a loud rumbling noise. It was getting closer and closer and I thought for a moment the sky was falling on my head. But no, it was Loola the gypsy. Apparently he is employed by the Council in Cransac to mow the lawns in the park. He was riding a sit on mower and looked as if he’d had a few pastis already. He saw me and headed my way in a zig zagged way. I jumped up and ran for my life. This was too dangerous. I made it to the bar, slipped on some phlegm, heard the cough mixture lady grunt and found a table at the far end.
His shadow hit me like a slap in the face and he sat down at the table and ordered a coffee.
Good morning Jolyon.
he stench in my bedroom had gradually worsened. I flicked a pair of Carolyn’s socks onto the bed, they landed on misty my faithful yet crusty cat. She did not move. The socks were safe. The girls walked in for their story and with cupped hands over their florid faces, they ran out in tears. Our bedroom stunk. With windows wide open I pulled open drawers, slid under the bed and checked our panty drawer. Still no clue. On all fours with my nostril to the carpet I covered every inch of the floor, sniffing nuggets of shit from Misty and sneezing so loudly my lady trickle nearly became a tsunami. And then as I neared Carolyn’s side of the bed the stench heightened. With quivering nostrils and a damp gusset I moved to her pillow and to her bed side cabinet. I pulled it out and to my surprise found a dead shrew! As I turned slowly towards Misty mouthing obscenities she cantered out of our room and downstairs. Ruddy cat.
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