Mildred and Mavis Ride Again


Those of you that have been with me for some time will know that the love of my life is a fine man named Parshal Dent-Uhre.  Brother to our somewhat overbearing knitting club President Lady Dorothy Dent-Uhre.  Whilst she is humourless, aloof bordering on arrogant, think Audrey Fforbes-Hamilton from "To the Manor Born", Parshal is quite the opposite.  Tall, greying hair that almost needs a trim, slim with an aquiline nose and the good natured friendliness that men of his age and breeding seem to have in abundance.  I never dreamed that a man like Parshal would ever have found a mousey little former educator like me attractive, but it is my good fortune that he does.  Yesterday Parshal arrived at our door at the helm of a bright, shiny sky blue open topped sports car.  For some reason I had a mental image of Terry Thomas in one of those wonderfully silly films where he played the cad in the 1950s.  Of course Parshal is no cad; but still, this car seems to be a spot of male vanity rather than a sensible mode of transport.  He explained to us, because by now Mildred had popped up beside me.  A slightly stinky Mildred as she was busy cooking fish for lunch.  A lovely piece of pouting, a fish that neither of us had tried previously.  Like thin cod but bonier.  She snorted when she saw the car and asked how much it had cost.  Trust Mildred to reduce matters to a base level.  Parshal ignored her and informed us that the car is a Mercedes 500SL vintage 1978.  "Not new then" Mildred grunted.  Parshal was keen to take me out for a spin.  He handed me a small package.  I opened it and laughed out loud.  A silk headscarf!  Very Grace Kelly.  He said that he thought that I should look the part.  I do so love that daft man.  I slipped in beside him and we left poor Mildred to her fish.  Parshal's quick "Trip round the block" turned out to be a visit to a riverside pub.  The place was packed with people enjoying the unseasonably warm weather.  Of course this was deliberate on Parshal's part and he naturally wanted to catch the envious eye of all the young men present.  His ruse was successful and within seconds we had an admiring crowd.  I confess to a certain frisson on irritation as I don't get enough time with Parshal and when I do I like to have him to myself.  You might call me selfish, but just what is the point of being in love if you cannot be with your lover?

I think that my slight grumpiness must have been recognised because very quickly we were in the bar sitting down choosing lunch. I had a simple tomato omelette whilst Parshal did justice to a stilton ploughman's.  Bread and cheese to my non-British readers.  He asked me what I thought of his new car.  I started out by making encouraging noises and saying how lovely it is.  "But what do you do if it rains?" I asked.  He laughed and said that you put the hood up.  "I'll show you when we leave" he reassured.  Seems they have thought of everything.  He told me that the car is a classic.  I confess to not really knowing what that means.  I suspect that it is just another way of parting silly old men from their money.  I can do that for him!  As we left I could see him quietly preening himself as he basked in the compliments of those young men again.  He made a bit of a show of showing me how to put the hood up.  A chrome clasp was unlocked and he tugged a canvas loop to pull the hood from the back to he top of the windscreen.  Once there he locked it in place.  He left it up as we drove away.  "She's fast" he commented and started to accelerate.  Then there was a sudden bang and I found myself out in fresh air.  The hood and become unlocked and had was slipping backwards!  I screamed and Parshal uttered a VERY rude set of expletives.  We pulled over and suddenly I got a fit of the giggles.  Have you noticed how much men hate you to laugh when they are struggling to do something macho?  Well my dears, it was a sore Parshal that drove me home.  He didn't come in, he was off to the garage to have the hood inspected.  Mildred was nearly hysterical with mirth and muttered something about "boys and their toys".  She had saved some fish for me.  I'll have it cold with salad tonight for tea.  Poor Parshal.  But it is quite funny.