EPISODE THREE

Please excuse me talking to you from my dressing-room.  Playing at some wretched venue in Greenwich.  Nothing but bookings at the moment.  The 02 beckons, what!


 
Excuse Fang, my new dog by the way, he's just there in case some of those fans get a bit close!

 Meanwhile, Marjorie did not know whether to be amused or embarassed at Lord Posh's abysmal piano skills:
 

 Often, he would bang the lid down:
"Oh dash it all!  Let's have some tea!"


 

And they would share a delightful afternoon over some Earl Grey tea and aWagon Wheel

 

 Occasionally Lavinia would join them when she got home after school, but she was impervious to his charms.  Unlike my wife.

Lord Posh, unusual for an English Toff, opened up a lot, and told them about his last wife.  A showgirl from Las Vegas, who got one of his stately homes in the divorce settlement:
"Never liked the damn place anyway!"
  

 Mary, clocking up the importance of their new guest, bitchily let it slip one afternoon:
"Begging your pardon, Sir, but Miss Lavinia has been in a detention centre, and several gang fights, your honour!"

 "Mary!  You Mare!  Get out of here at once!  One day I'll throw you and those brats of yours out on the streets!"
 



 Lord Posh, who had barely been listening, simply imagining Mary on all fours after she'd served dinner, merely said he admired a girl with pluck!  And did these fillies all get undressed together in the dorm?  What about the baths?

Lavinia did not answer him, and Marjorie breathed a sigh of relief that Mary did not reveal her grandchild down in the kitchen.
 

Then things progressed to a couple of intimate dinners, in only the best restaurants.  Lord Posh was a perfect gentleman, but all Marjorie could see was her way back to a country estate, this time with a Lord of the manor, not merely Landed Gentry as before.  

Piano lessons were not referred to anymore, but one day Lord Posh turned up at the usual time.  Only he had come to see Me on an imporant matter.  It had to be quick, as I had a gig in West Dulwich.

Then when Marjorie entered the room, unwittingly blowing her hopes apart, I told her what Lord Posh had come to say:
"My dear.  Lord Posh has asked permission to marry Lavinia when she is 16 (and after her GCSE's).  I don't think she'll be too keen though."
  

 Marjorie's expression became stony-faced.  Had she hoped LP was asking me to release her from our sham of a marriage?  Did she really think anyone would do that?  Ask a husband like that?
I think she did.  

"Damned fine filly", Lord Posh exclaimed to my wife, "Ripe for childrearing, eh?  Tried to bring it up at dinner, m'dear.  But felt the old man should know first, eh?"

"Ratscocks!"

  

 Will Marjorie ever recover from this bitter blow?
Will Lavinia actually do her GCSE's?  
And will Paul get to West Dulwich?

Tune in same time, same channel for Episode Four!   

EPISODE TWO

Meanwhile, Lavinia, now tag-free, watches "her" Alastiar from under her long lashes:

And She pounces on him one day, when he goes to wash his hands after a kitten delivery.  Mary being out at the post office, and Mrs Slag bathing the children
 

 "Alastair!", she cried, "You belong to me!  Why did you go off with that slag, Mary?"

 It was a question that Alastair could not answer himself.  Their union had been so urgent and hurried - and their "marriage" cermony rough and sordid: 

Alastair can still recall the coldness of the place (behind that fence).

 "But whatever and whyever, Miss Lav, I cannot wed you.  You're far too young!"
"Oh no!, " she cried, "I cannot be denied again!  When I am 16, we will go to my father for permission to marry!"
"erm... Make it 18", he suggested nervously.

  When Lavinia had fled back upstairs, Alastair seriously thought about the girl's proposal.  It could be possible for the two of them to have a future.  It could be a way for him to get back Upstairs, and treat Mary like a servant again. 
 

 However, Mary (back unexpectedly) heard every word.  She was not having any of this!
Alastair was hers!!
Not that spoilt blueblooded Brat's.
She devised an evil plan immediately!

Calling Alastair upstairs, she seduced him brutally and without mercy.
    

 "No Mary!  I beg you!", he cried, but it was too late!

 That night in bed, Alastair bruised and sore, Mary announced that he had made her pregnant that afternoon, and they would have to be married after all.  Properly this time.  With a Vicar and everything.

Alastair ran back upstairs (even though he wasn't really allowed up there) in tears.  However would he get away from Mary now?  He could never be with Lavinia.  He would never be Upstairs - ever again!

Meanwhile, back at the piano, Marjorie is tinkling absent-mindedly, dreaming of what might have been.  Or what will never be.






Or would it????



 

"Hello there!  My name is Lord Posh!  
 Jolly well let myself in, bally desperate to learn the piano, m'dear!  Here's a load of money!"


To say Marjorie was hit by a thunderbolt was an understatement.  
  

 And it seemed Alistair
wasn't the only one who could
see a way out of here!  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Will Marjorie use Lord Posh as a passport out of the middle class suburbs?  Did Alistair ever get to wash his hands?

Tune in same time, same channel for Episode Three!  

Don't touch that dial!!! 

Life With The Amanda Ann Family Series Two

Our First Christmas in our new reduced circumstances was pretty grim

Despite Mary's tempting
Christmas cake!








My wife Marjorie and I are struggling to make the best of a fragile marriage, but something (or someone) always seems to come between us.....

Can't think why.....

 Meanwhile, Lavinia seems to have got on her feet a bit more (well, once the tag's removed).
She went to a place in Ashford for a while with lots of other larky young girls!  Think she learnt a lot.  
The Board decided she could come back home, provided she didn't go near sharp objects: 

"Ratscocks!"

Luckily, she got her old place at Waldegrave back, and is buckling down apparently

I have to say, Marjorie really has turned a new leaf with these piano lessons.  However, I try not to hear her heavy sighs of discontent

 I also try not to notice her 
comfort eating 

 However, Marjorie is now making a big effort with her grandchild (I think)

 Which is more than can be said for that sap Alastair.  Making a new life with Mary, he truly is repenting in leisure.

 And it's no good making cow's eyes at my wife, like he did all over Christmas, she won't go near him now he's known a servant!
(husband's don't count!)

 And he no longer practises medicene, he has turned to vetinary surgery.  Relatively successful, he operates from our basement, while Mary tends to his six stepchildren.

 As for me, I've stopped watching the old box, and have become a stand-up comedian - well, a sit-down one really (guffaw!)

Got a bit of a cult following now.  Odd little chaps, but very loyal.  Wouldn't like to be alone with one of them though!

My Agent is delighted with my success.  Reckons I'll be on Mock The Week in no time!

The bookings at the Bearcat Club are rolling in!

"Just be yourself, my boy! Keep up all that stuff about sleeping with servants and your country estate, and the laughs will keep coming"

He pats me on the back.  He's a bit odd himself actually.  

There is one thing my agent doesn't approve of - with good reason actually - and this is my "business manager".  (Gay Ken from next door)
Hardly any business gets done, and we end up in bed. 

 "We can never have a future," I constantly tell him, "my life is with Marjorie and Lavinia"

"They will be welcome in our new lives, Paul.  We have to stop living a lie!"
My answer is always the same:  No.

"One day, you will be mine all mine!  Cackle, Cackle!"

 Bit worried about him, actually.


End of Part One (series two)
Next week:  Marjorie encounters a thunderbolt, and Lavinia propositions Alastair.  

Same time, same channel .....