WILLY Cs SAYING

NO ONE LIKES BEING CRITICISED BUT A WISE MAN RECOGNISES THE RIGHT OF CRITICS TO THEIR OPINION! A CLEVER MAN SEES THE SENSE IN WHAT THEY ARE SAYING

BILLY'S WORLD SOON

Billy's World is printing will soon be available on www.williamcornfordbooks.com

THE MERRY OLD GITS

The new book THE MERRY OLD GITS is now available on Amazon/Kindle as an ebook. A soft cover version is available at £3.50 plus postage from author@williamcornfordbooks.com - 'A really enjoyable short read. I love these barmy old boys" - Johnnie Johnson - Author and Sage

MOGS CHRISTMAS LUNCH a short tale

GOOD NEWS Available soon. Willy Cs short tale The Mogs Christmas Lunch. Will appear on amazon/kindle and in soft-back copy from author@williamcornfordbooks.com

BITCH IN THE MANGER

BITCH IN A MANGER

Jason knew he was wrong; leastways in his heart of hearts he did. He should have listened to Paul, he knew that. But at the time, his mind was stunned by her beauty. She seemed so perfect and he fell for the sultry look and slim, graceful figure. Paul knew though! Somehow, he could tell that she was cunning and selfish.

After the dance, Jason had kissed her goodnight and helped her into the taxi. It was a nice kiss. Her lips were full and sweet and, although she kept them shut, Jason felt that, perhaps, that was the proper thing to do on a first kiss. That night he dreamed about her in his embrace.

The following day his dream faded into reality, when he felt that she was far too good for him and he might as well forget her. However, soon after lunch, she rang and said how much she had enjoyed dancing with him. He was delighted! Quickly, he asked her to meet him in the Black and White Milk Bar that evening at seven. He dropped the telephone when she said she would love too. He picked-up the ‘phone as fast as he could, but she was gone!

When he arrived at the Milk Bar, she was sitting elegantly on a chrome-plated stool at the bar. He apologised for keeping her waiting - he didn’t know why, since he was earlier than they’d arranged. She smiled sweetly and said she was very glad he could come. If he’d have known the irony of that he would have turned and fled!

He wanted to walk her home that evening, but she insisted she would catch a cab. Her father, who was very protective, would be waiting for her at the front door.

During their last waltz, her conversation made it clear that she was a virgin and would allow malarkey with no one until she was married. This did not disappoint him. On the contrary, he was pleased that none had been there before him. In any case, he had already determined that he would try nothing on with this sophisticated lady. Such a forward approach he’d felt would ensure an abrupt end to their relationship.

 Three days after they first met, she agreed to elope with him to Gretna and, two days later, they were married.

He hadn’t met her parents. She’d said, they had plans for her that didn’t include marriage. His own parents had died in a car-crash three years before and he had no near relatives to come to the wedding. Paul said he couldn’t afford the time off work; so, he didn’t go either. They were compelled to seek the help of two strangers to act as witnesses to the ceremony.

Once married, Jason took her home to his flat in Bermondsey. They’d travelled on a non-sleeper, night train, so there was no opportunity to make love.  

As soon as they entered the flat, he went to take her in his arms, but she resisted and said she was starving and they should eat. They dined at a nearby Italian and, even in the half-light, she looked radiant and alluring. He felt surges of love then lust pass through his body.

She took ages to drink her coffee and the waiter took ages to provide the bill. This, however, did nothing to supress his desire.

Once they were inside the flat, he again tried to embrace her but she pushed him away angrily. He was flabbergasted and slumped on a chair. She snapped, with a sneer, that she didn’t like the thought of physical contact with men - nor women for that matter. She had only agreed to the wedding because, once she got married, she would inherit a substantial income from a trust fund; which, stipulated that she must stay married to her first husband. Her father, she said, had been a High-Church bigot, to whom divorce was anathema. Divorce was, he’d proclaimed, the work of the devil. He’d died three months before she and Jason met, and her mother had passed away giving birth to her. Now all the probate and other legal business had been completed, she could receive the income.

Jason was shocked by the extent of her dishonesty. How could such a perfect creature, lie like a practised fraudster. His shock was compounded when she said that he could sleep on the sofa until she could buy a suitably large property. Then, he could have his own room! She explained that she would provide him with a generous income, which would stop if he filed for divorce. He was shattered! He dared say nothing to Paul but he had none other to turn to.

The following day, even though he was on his honeymoon, he returned to work. He was met at the door by the company secretary and told that the company was in debt and had to go into voluntary liquidation. There would, he said, be no job for him.

In a park nearby, Jason sat on a wooden bench covered with algae, which was not enhanced by the residue of bird droppings. He tried to think things through but all he could establish was that he was unemployed and had a beautiful but frigid wife. He wandered into a pub and sat down with a pint. At that moment, the saloon door opened and Paul walked in. It was as if he’d known the extent of Jason’s depression. He desperately needed to tell someone of his problems. Paul would know what to do!

Paul ordered a round of drinks and sat down with his arm over Jason’s shoulder. He looked suitably sad, but actually was a little pleased that his predictions about her had been so accurate. He waited until Jason had downed half a glass of best bitter and then advised him to look on the bright side. Jason could see no bright side but Paul pointed out that he need never work again if he stuck with her, and there were plenty of totties who willingly discard their underwear for rich men. 

Paul was right again!  For the next few months Jason lived well and spent time with a few professional girls who tended to his needs. He bought a Porsche Boxster and swanned around the country lanes near to the large property she had purchased. Several times, he took the train to London and enjoyed strolling through the museums in Kensington.

Since she’d hired servants to cook, clean and garden, she had time to try every beauty treatment possible. She was a specimen case of narcissism and loved herself with a passion.  Jason didn’t understand fully but, even if he had understood, it would have made no difference to his life.

Sometime passed before he got the curt note from his bank. His account was overdrawn and he should see a manager without delay. He hurried to the bank and was told that his income had been stopped on the explicit instructions of his wife.

Jason rushed home to find her soaking in a bath of lama milk, which she had been assured put her above Cleopatra. He waited to speak with her until she had finished, but she brushed past him and went into her dressing room. There, she put on silk pyjamas and a bed-cape that covered her shoulders and upper back. Even though he knew how devoted she was to frigidity, he couldn’t stop the warm blood that coursed through his body. She asked him why he’d found it necessary to disturb her bath. Her stammered that he’d been his summoned to the bank and it was all her doing.

She laughed as she said that there was nothing in the marriage agreement that permitted him to visit whores. He protested that they weren’t whores and, in any case, he only did it because she had denied his manly needs. She laughed again and wandered into the lounge to pour herself a small glass of Cointreau; before reclining, with her long legs revealed, on a cushion-laden chez-lounge. She said that she managed without sex and I couldn’t see why he shouldn’t. She smiled again as his face showed a flash of anger.

Slowly, he controlled his temper and pointed out that she never stipulated in the contract that he visit no other women. She laughed loudly. Obviously, she said, his solicitor did not read the small print or, if he did, he failed to explain this part to him. She said her rules were quite clear and now, he would get no money from her and must think of a role for his life!

He shouted that she was nothing but a dog-in-a-manger. She responded by chuckling as she pointed-out that a dog was male! He yelled that she must therefore be a bitch-in–a-manager”!

Later that evening Jason thought hard and weighed all the options before deciding what his future role would be! After all she’d wanted him to develop his own role. If she was a bitch-in-a-manger he would become a dog-in-a-manger! If he couldn’t have her money, then, he vowed, neither would she!  He would become a professional killer. Paul would know how! Jason knew who his first target would be ……………..

A thought on Saturday

 

For me, the world is in confusion

And all that annoys me seems to make it so!

A deafening noise assaults my mind

Created by a yelling few.

The greed of those who do not understand 'enough'

And beggar those poor innocents that do!

The trendy briefness of social media,

That claims invention but embraces laziness.

The indulged who want it now! Not tomorrow!

Nor with any thought of cost.

The deception of those who claim that which is untrue

And posture as they attribute blame.

They cannot rule themselves!

So why trust them to govern others?

But why am I so sad?

When, in truth, surrounded by such pleasure?

I sometime wander through trees in rich colours;

The gift of autumn - leading on to winter's hold.

Christmas too will bring some friendly cheer

And I will shake some hands and kiss some lips with joy.

My shoes will crunch the frosty grass

And my eyes will twinkle in the shiny scene.

I’ll gaze with fondness at surrounding kin!

And laugh at all their triviality.

So, let me take heart that living is so good

And concede that existence seems so seldom fair.

Forget the world of all pretentious men!

For life is more than all they spoil.

 

A MESSAGE

Don’t cling to dreams that cannot be fulfilled, 

Fortune does not always favour bravery, 
Nor does it always walk with success,

And don’t discard modest apples for exotic strawberries,

For the apples will still be ripe when the strawberries have decayed.

Start on a low rung and you will miss no fruit as you climb the tree,

And remember, dreams may lead to disappointment

But hard-work usually succeeds.