I was 19 when I got a job as a trainee reporter on a local paper, and the world of work seemed full of wonders. One of these was Joe.
The guys who do the supermarket home deliveries are always chatty, and today’s caller is no exception. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Sitting with the windows open, I hear the sounds of late summer. But what am I hearing exactly? The crack of leather on willow? The thock of ball on racquet? Actually, it is the sound of coughing.
Who do I see about reporting people to the health service? I need to speak to someone about two friends of mine who are always, always ill.
The hob is crowded. A pan has been shoved to one side, leaving its handle over the gas. I grab it, drop it, say a rude word, then repeat the word several times. But Janet knows a better cure. ‘Hold your finger under the cold tap and keep it there,’ she commands.
Please can we have our ball back mister? ‘Just this once. But tell your dad that the next time it comes over here, it’s going in the bin.’
It might have gone down in the annals of true crime as murder by potato if things had turned out differently.
What do Pierce Brosnan, George Clooney, Andrew Lloyd Webber and my neighbour Gemma have in common? They have all had difficulty ordering a prawn biryani.
People worry about the medicalisation of everyday life. Old age has been medicalised, they say. So has childbirth and so has eating. The list goes on.
I love it when news items about science and health are treated as light entertainment. The announcer might as well say: ‘Now here is another snippet from those wackos in white coats.’
Janet slips out of bed and silently disappears. Was I snoring again? Maybe I need surgery. Uvulopalatopharyngoplasty? Talk about a mouthful.
I like to help where I can. No charge, of course. I am like the car mechanic who is happy to fix a pal’s starter motor as a favour.
I think Janet has been watching too many horror movies. Why else would a primary school teacher be thinking about voodoo?
<p>Look at me. Do I strike you as the jogging type? Red nose, baggy eyes - and that's after the darkroom went to town on my photo with filters, tints and six grades of airbrush.</p>