I must say that I am very surprised that in the olden days they allowed the Song of Solomon to go into the Bible at all! I bet Saint Paul tried to get it banned when he got involved in writing the New Testament, which is basically about a lot of letters that he wrote in early AD. I read it from start to finish. I will have to read it again, more slowly, because unfortunately I quite forgot to look out for the names of musical instruments. There are parts of the Song of Solomon that I will have to ask Rachel (or Brenda) about when eventually we become better acquainted.
I was about to start on Solomon again when Mum came home from the 10:45 service. She was in a bad mood. The Vicar has asked all the flower ladies if they would sit together at the front, because of the importance of their job. Mum says they do the flowers in shifts, so she didn’t know any of the other ladies, and what was worse, Mrs Ramsbotham was asked to sit with all the other ladies who have Communion brought to them on account of their legs, so they were unable to converse.
So it was perhaps not a good moment to ask Mum about the computer I need for my IT (I have an important exam on Thursday, the result of which will determine my future career prospects.)
I tried to explain to her that it was not the fault of the computer that Dad went off to live in Mallorca with the lady from the check-outs at Aldi. The computer is a wonderful tool, I told her, like the typewriter or the electric telephone, but it is only a tool, and that’s when she burst into tears.
“Just like your dad”, she said, and went to her room and slammed the door, so after a quarter of an hour I decided to get my own lunch (a quick repast of sardines on toast – rich in Omega oils and therefore very good for the brain.)
How do I explain to Mum that my chances of passing my IT exams are minimal if I do not have access to something more up-to-date than Dad’s old Sinclair Spectrum, which also nestles secretly in my satchel, next to the letter from Brenda (or Rachel)? Mum doesn’t realise that dad was a genius – he had worked out how to get Broadband on his Spectrum, which is how he met the lady from Aldi. When he left us to live in Mallorca he left me the Spectrum, of which he had no further need, with a strange note that said “this is also your escape route.”
If Dad is even mentioned Mum throws her hands in the air and bursts into tears and wails “Aldi!”. I think it was the shame – she wouldn’t have minded so much if the lady had worked on the check-outs at Waitrose or Marks & Spencer or even Sainsbury’s – but Aldi!
I’d just started on the Task again when Mum came downstairs.
“By the way”, she said, in a very unpleasant tone of voice. “The Vicar announced in the Notices that the Church requires the services of a good albeit inexpensive carpenter to extend the choirstalls. I had a word with him afterwards. He will probably be in touch with you.”
I think Mum might have hissed, if it were possible to hiss while enunciating the words “By the way...”