Sponge Cake & Leopard Skin
A monologue
By Jane Hilliard
(A single chair, small table ,on it a bottle of sherry and a sherry glass. )
I thought it was the postman when the doorbell rang.
We don’t have many visitors, Raymond and I, he prefers it that way
I was surprised to see a woman on the doorstep.
Iwas even more surprised at the size of the cake she was holding, an enormous Victoria
sponge, oozing jam and cream.
I thought she’d come to wrong house.
Before either of us had a chance to speak she took a lunge towards me.
I jumped out of the way and she landed on the hall carpet.
There was a cat you see, Siamese, wound itself round her legs, tripped her up and she
landed on top of it.
It wriggled out from beneath her, spitting and yowling, covered in jam and cream.
Then it sat on the doorstep, purring, silly little pink tongue darting in and out as it licked
itself clean.
While the woman lay face down on our new ‘Autumn Gold twist pile carpet!
Raymond’s choice that carpet, I wanted soft blue but he insisted on gold, I told him it
looked like we had smeared the place in mustard but his way was the only way and
we had the whole bungalow done in ‘Autumn Gold’!
At night, with the lamps on, it takes on the hue of the contents of a baby’s nappy. Not that I
know too much about babies nappies never having had any children, Raymond is allergic
them you see,
He gets hypo if anyone under the age of 10 comes anywhere near him.
Anyway, back to the woman on the carpet,
She was trying to move, legs shuffling about, body writhing, rolling from side to
side. Spluttering.
I tried to help, I really did.
I put both my hands underneath her and lifted but it was no use she must have
weighed fifteen stone at least!
It was then that I spotted the deep red stain seeping onto the carpet.
I leapt into action!
Rushed into the kitchen for a cloth and the bottle of carpet cleaner..
On my knees, furiously rubbing at the stain fearing it was blood.
Turned out to be Raspberry Jam.
“Get yourself on to your knees dear” I said “Then I can help you up”
It was no use; the poor woman was just rolling about like a turtle on its back making a
strange strangling noise!
I finished with the carpet, took the cloth back to the kitchen, rinsed it out.
When I returned, the noise had stopped, the woman was still.
I dialled 999
It took two of them to roll her over.
Cream, jam, sponge, up her nose, in her eyes, even her ears!
I looked away!
They took her away.
Oh, they asked me all sorts of questions while they were working on her, none of which
I could answer,
I had get on with wiping down the walls before Raymond came home for lunch.
The Police arrived later, more questions that I couldn’t answer.
I mean, how do you explain that a strange woman came calling at nine thirty on a Tuesday
morning then choked herself on a cake having been tripped up by a cat?
I began to feel a bit shaky after they left, so I had a sherry to steady myself. I tried to talk
to Raymond about the mornings events but it was pointless, his only comment “Don’t get
involved” Ate his Cauliflower cheese and went back to work
He can be a queer fish at times can Raymond. My Mother said the same
My Father thought I could do better, maybe I could but I was nearly thirty and Raymond was
the only real boyfriend I had ever had and certainly the only one to ask me to marry him.
A shy child with no confidence, boys were not attracted to me
Well, boys like a girl with a bit of spirit don’t they?
I’ve never had ‘spirit’ my parents didn’t encourage it.
Quiet people, living a quiet life.
It was always just the three of us until Raymond came along.
After they passed away Raymond and I continued living in the bungalow.
We’re still here!
I was washing up after dinner when the doorbell rang again
Raymond was out.
Badminton on a Tuesday night.
I kept the chain on the door while the stranger identified himself.
He turned out to be the husband of the poor woman with the cake, I let him in.
He’d just come back from the hospital and wanted to thank me for all I had done for his
wife, sadly she had passed away before she reached the hospital
There was nothing they could do,
We sat at the kitchen table, not the usual place to entertain guests it’s true but he had his
outdoor shoes on and I didn’t have the heart to ask him to remove them.
I made tea, poor man was drained!
He looked awful!
Apparently he and Mavis had a dreadful row the night before her death.
Alan (that was his name)had threatened to leave; he was tired of her slumping on the sofa
all day.
Tiny little thing when they got married he said but since the Agoraphobia she spent all day
watching television, her only activity was baking and eating, her only friend was the cat.
Ironic I thought, but I kept it to myself.
Such a sad way to live your life, especially for one so young!
Mavis had promised she would get some help, he told her it was her last chance
How he regretted those words!
Now, I know little or nothing about Agoraphobia, it would appear that crossing the
road to my house involved a great deal of courage on Mavis’s part.
Alan started to cry.
I gave him a glass of Sherry, I had one too.
He told me that she had often seen me going past her house on my way to the bus stop
and had often remarked that I looked like a ‘nice Lady’.
Which obviously explained why she chose to visit me on her first venture out.
I felt a little guilty that I had cursed quite so much about the stain on the carpet.
We had another glass of Sherry.
Alan asked me if I would consider helping him with the funeral tea; he had no relatives
nearby you see and couldn’t face it alone.
I was flattered.
I touched his hand, poor man, he was so distressed.
Well of course, Raymond didn’t want me to help, said it was bad enough the woman chose
OUR hall carpet to die on and not to get involved.
He can be very hard at times can, Raymond!
Two days later Alan called in on his way home from the Coroner’s office.
Raymond was at work.
I invited Alan in.
We had coffee.
We talked.
Seeing him again, a little calmer than our last meeting I felt somehow close to him.
An attractive man, with sharp blue eyes and slightly greying hair I found his vulnerability
rather attractive.
Wasn’t too sure how old he was but certainly younger than me.
I wished I had brushed my hair, put a bit of lipstick on,
Mavis died from asphyxiation.
Well, it wasn’t exactly rocket science.
I could have told them that!
The Paramedics gave evidence that they were here within 10 minutes of my phone call,
I nodded in agreement but I did feel a tiny bit guilty about the fifteen minutes I spent
scrubbing the hall carpet before I called them.
He didn’t need to know about that!
Accidental death the Coroner said.
He kissed my cheek as he was leaving. (Alan I mean, not the Coroner)
I really enjoyed the funeral.
Oh dear that’s not right is it!
I threw myself into making cakes, not a Victoria sponge in sight needless to say!
Sandwiches, cold cuts, salads.
Alan was grateful.
Raymond was annoyed.
And that’s how it all began!
Alan took to popping in occasionally, on his way home from work when Raymond was at
Badminton or wine club.
I looked forward to seeing him.
He was finding it hard to come to terms with Mavis’s death you see and the manner in
which she died.
At one point he blamed the Paramedics for not getting here in time.
I didn’t let him dwell on that too much,
He asked my advice, how to iron a shirt or make a Shepherd’s Pie.
He invited me out to dinner.
We went in his little white Plumbers van one Friday evening to a ‘Trattoria’.
Red and white check table cloths, dim lighting and those wine bottles with raffia
round them and red candles stuck in the neck, very nice!
We talked a lot.
We laughed a lot.
The food was delicious.
The toilets were beautifully clean too.
I was home before Raymond so no need to tell him I’d been out.
The next time, we went for an early evening drive into the country, ate fish and chips out of
the paper sitting on the cliff top, hadn’t done that in years!
Was pleased I had some wet wipes in my bag though, such a lot of grease!
.
We fell into a sort of routine, Raymond out two nights a week and Alan and I meeting for
one of them, I told Raymond I had started evening classes, he didn’t even ask what I was
studying!
I didn’t care. It was fun, the secrecy.
I found myself in an ‘exotic’ underwear shop whilst shopping one day!
Fell I in love with a leopard skin print bra and pants set, with tassels!
I had never owned such items in my life and I have no idea why I bought them or why I
wore them the following Friday night when Alan and I went out to dinner.
It just felt…right!
Maybe it was the underwear or maybe it was the wine but as we were leaving the restaurant
I suggested going for a ride, we parked in a lonely spot in the forest and before I could stop
myself I was suggesting we get into the back of his van!
You can guess the rest!
Oh, he loved the leopard skin and I enjoyed his love making.
Surrounded by u bends’ bits of plastic piping and nipple greasing oil!
Back to the underwear shop the next day, a red lace Basque this time, with suspenders!
The haughty woman who served me asked me if I would like it gift wrapped, she obviously
thought I was buying it for someone else
I resisted the urge to say “actually no, it’s for me, .I shall be wearing it for my lover.”
I thanked her and I had it gift wrapped.
Obviously it’s not appropriate for a 58 yr. old woman to be wearing such items!
Good! It made me feel ‘sinful’
Sex has never played a big role in Raymond and my relationship.
When we married I was naïve, he appeared to be the same. I found that endearing.
At first!
Raymond just wasn’t all that interested and to be honest, after a while neither was I, well
not with Raymond.
We’d settled into a sort of ‘companiable’ marriage.
We’ve had separate rooms for as long as I can remember.
Raymond likes it that way.
Alan and I enjoyed halcyon days of love and laughter.
Long walks and deep conversations
Raymond didn’t notice my new haircut or my new makeup.
He certainly didn’t seem to notice my carefree attitude although he did once remark that I
seem to be enjoying my evening classes.
I smiled to myself, you have no idea how much I’m enjoying them!
I loved keeping that a secret!
But, it couldn’t last; nothing ever does if it’s too good does it?
We had been ‘meeting up’ for nearly nine months when my world fell apart.
Alan and I went for dinner as usual, he seemed a little more reserved, said he was tired.
When we arrived at his house we didn’t head straight for the bedroom, we sat in the lounge,
me on the settee, and he in the armchair.
He made coffee.
He wanted to talk.
My heart sank.
I knew!
He’d met someone else.
A young widow.
One of his customers.
He was very sorry and said he would always love me but he was lonely and needed more
than I could give.
I had Raymond you see, he had no one.
He was moving in with her.
I wanted to scream out, tell him that I would have given him all he wanted, made him
happy, cared for him, loved him. I would have left Raymond, I would have moved away.
But, he had never asked me.
I didn’t say any of these things; I just listened, kissed his cheek and left the house by the
front door instead of the back.
I was past caring if the neighbours did see me!
I walked.
Tears running down my face in black mascara rivulets
The bones from the red lace Basque digging into my sides, the suspenders rubbing my legs
as if they were mocking me.
You stupid old woman!
What made you think you would be enough?
What made you think he wouldn’t move on?
What made you think this was forever?
The tears ran.
Still I walked.
Eventually, I went home,
Raymond would be back soon.
I went straight to my room,
The place was in darkness, apart from a light under Raymond’s door.
He was back early!
I threw my handbag on my bed, headed to the bathroom to clean my face.
I just wanted to fall into bed and disappear under the duvet.
I hesitated, turned, went to Raymond’s room to say goodnight, I don’t know why, bravado
I suppose.
The room was empty; I looked towards the open door of the ensuite,
The first thing I saw was black fishnet stockings, cheap red stilettos and a mass of matted
blonde hair.
Reflected in the bathroom mirror, amongst the garish red lips, bright green eye shadow was
a female face with a look of horror staring back at me.
We stared at each other
Finally I spoke.
“Where is Raymond?” I demanded to know.
Her head bowed.
Then, I noticed the leopard skin bra and pants, with tassels!
My eyes wandered to the pile of clothing on the floor, something leather, something silky
lay in a crumpled heap.
“I’m so sorry” she said staring at the basin, head still bowed. “I’m so very sorry!”
It took me a couple of seconds to recognise Raymond’s voice.
I heard my mobile ringing in my handbag.
I knew it was Alan.
Maybe he had changed his mind.
Maybe he had thought about it and realised he had made a mistake.
Maybe…
I glanced towards the bedroom door then back at Raymond.
The phone was silent now.
Somehow it made me stronger.
Poor, pathetic Raymond.
Crying now, mascara running down his over rouged cheeks.
I took him by the arm and led him to his bed.
We sat, neither speaking.
Him in his leopard skin bra stuffed with tissues, me with my Basque suspenders digging
into my thighs.
He was sobbing quietly, I took his hand.
“Explain Raymond please.” I managed to say eventually.
“I can’t” he whispered.
“How long?” I wanted to know
Since he was sixteen!
Oh my God!
How did I miss that!
All those years!
I wanted to feel anger
I wanted to attack him for his years of selfishness.
His domination.
His indifference.
His stubbornness.
For denying me the right to have a child.
And all the time he was hiding this huge secret!
Anger welled up in me, an anger I had never felt before.
I wanted to beat my fists against his chest, whip off that stupid wig, scratch his ridiculous
face with my nails till it bled.
Instead I felt pity, so deep it made my chest hurt.
I held him in my arms and we cried together.
Me, for what I had lost and him for what I had found.
There was no Badminton club, his holdall contained his dressing up clothes on a Tuesday
nights no wine club either.
Oh, he did go to a club, some rundown café in the backstreets.
A place where likeminded people met, a place where they could be themselves, most of
them married men like him he said.
The clubhouse had been raided by the Police that night and he had made a quick getaway,
He hadn’t expected me home so early.
I listened to his humiliation,
I nearly told him about Alan but decided against it
That was my secret.
I made some tea while he cleaned off his face and put on his dressing gown.
We sat in the kitchen and talked.
He had no explanation, no excuses.
He couldn’t promise he would never do it again.
He understood if I wanted to leave him now.
I played the ‘wronged wife’ with a slight feeling of guilt but I put it to the back of my
mind.
Well, at least my ‘secret’ was of a normal nature!
I lay down some ground rules.
For the first time in 25 years I felt I had the right!
He must be discreet at all times.
No wearing women’s clothes outside of ‘the club’ or the house
I choose his clothes/wigs etc. and I do his makeup.
And lastly…
He allows me to get a part time job.
He agreed to everything.
He had no choice did he!
With a tentative kiss on the cheek I made my way to my bedroom.
Of course Ididn’t sleep.
The leopard skin underwear came into my head.
I got out of bed stopping to pick up the red Basque from the floor, screwed it up, shoved it
to the back of the wardrobe.
I never wanted to see it again!
I opened the drawer.
My leopard skin bra and pants were still there, wrapped in its pink tissue paper as always.
I shut the drawer and smiled to myself.
Imagine my husband and I have the same taste in ladies underwear!
I got back into bed.
My mobile rang.
It was Alan.
My finger hovered over the call button, I hesitated.
I turned my phone off.
I lay there reliving the past 9 months.
I went from feelings of warmth, comfort, excitement, to feelings of anger.
Then despair.
How was I going to cope without Alan in my life!
I would have left Raymond I kept saying to myself between my tears.
You only had to ask me.
But I knew that wasn’t an option
Alan was still a young man, he wanted children.
He deserved more than I could give.
Crying softly into my pillow I fell into an unsettled sleep.
.
I was woken by a remorseful Raymond with a cup of tea.
He could tell I’d been crying, he apologised so many times for causing me such pain.
I allowed him to wallow in his misery.
So, here we are today, Alan’s gone and there are three of us living in the bungalow,
Raymond, Candice and I.
Oh, I have cried many many tears over Alan.
I miss him dreadfully,
I want to wish him well and hope he will be happy
I can’t.
Yet.
I watched from my bedroom window
Five trips it took him and his little white van to move out
He looked over on the final trip I hid behind the net curtains.
He left a voice message on my mobile, “goodbye, I’ll never forget you, I’m sorry if I’ve
hurt you” etc…
I didn’t reply.
It was best that way.
Then, he was gone.
Raymond made me soup.
He never asked any questions, just quietly ‘cared’ for me all day.
We’ve stuck to most of our rules
Raymond still goes to his ‘club’ (they have a new venue now)
The tart with the blonde wig is no more;
‘Candice’ is a brunette now with a sleek straight bob and subtle makeup.
We talk more, mostly about clothes, makeup and his friends at the club.
He is quite animated at times!
Funny too, makes me laugh on occasions.
It has made me aware and a little sad just how few conversations we had before.
It must have been so hard for Raymond to keep his ‘other life’ a secret all these years.
He’s more relaxed these days.
And what about me?
Well, I have joined a creative writing course.
Every Thursday afternoon.
Our tutor encourages us to “Write from the heart, use your life experiences to enhance your
writing”
I’m sticking to poetry!
I start as a waitress at an Italian restaurant next week.
The one I went to with Alan.
Its part time
Tuesdays and Fridays.
Saw the advert, got the job.
Looking forward to it very much.
Besides which…
Aldo, the owner, is rather attractive!
Might be taking the Leopard skin tassels out of tissue again someday soon!
Who knows!