This Is A Continuation of a True Collection Of Stories About My Complicated Narcissistic Mother…I have added some adjectives also the odd verb and thrown in a bit of spice to amuse myself.
I do not have the money to pay for the amount of therapy I would need to help me get my head around everything.I choose to write about my life with humour,because laughter is good for the soul.Names have been changed to protect the innocent and my mental health…
Beryl made plans with Errol to go out fishing the day after meeting him.
She swore me to secrecy, she said it was all innocent and Barney wouldn’t understand. Knowing Beryl the way I did I had a feeling Barney was about to reach his use-by date.
Mid-morning the following day I was surprised when I saw Beryl and Errol chugging into shore, apart from being earlier than expected I was amazed the boat stayed on top of the water for an extended period of time..
Beryl was full of beans, I was immediately suspicious and thought surely not?
Errol said we caught crab and cooked it on the boat, Beryl said Yes, he fed me crab and that’s not all he fed me, I believe that was the moment I prayed for deafness. I could not believe my mother had sex amongst the monumental amount of crap in that pitiful excuse for a boat with a man she had known for less than an hour, I congratulated her…because I knew smacking the feral out of Beryl would be seen as socially unacceptable.
Beryl went straight to Barney’s house and broke his heart dumping him quicker than a handful of prawns could go off in the hot sun.
Every day when I arrived at Barney’s he would be sitting in the same spot pulling back the same filthy green curtain trying to get a glimpse of Beryl as she pulled up in Errol’s driveway, he was a broken bitter man. That was when he first openly told me he was my biological father, it wasn’t a shock because I had held that belief for many years.It was more about the way he said it that played on my mind, it didn’t feel genuine it felt more like he was trying to hurt Beryl through me. Clueless of him, because Beryl was always bulletproof doing what she wanted when she wanted and obviously whoever she wanted. Anyway, that was when I decided to do an Ancestry D.N.A.Test.
One month later Beryl packed her bags and moved into Errol’s Poverty Palace as his partner to live a life of frugality and questionable standards. She threw herself into Errol’s life, some of his family accepted her, while others would have preferred to use her for crab bait. He decided whilst it was her own money he could overlook her chronic gambling addiction, while she overlooked his inability to pee straight and to ignore the plague of moths filling the air whenever he opened his wallet.
During their time together they did quite a few road trips in what they called their ‘Winnebago’.It actually resembled a mobile prop from Steptoe and Son.
One particular trip was across Australia where Beryl accomplished her dream of having sex in the middle of the Simpson Desert to celebrate her 80th birthday.
I can only assume Errol was a participant, he was older than Beryl with the energy levels of a sloth on valium and a body that looked like it needed ironing, but he had the viagra supplies of a champion.
I was concerned that his ego and Beryl’s needs might one day cause him to become a statistic. Truth be told Errol was worried Beryl might get herself a new boyfriend if Little Errol could not cut the mustard, so he soldiered on for seven years until he kicked the proverbial.
Beryl once again packed her bags, and with a sizeable inheritance filling her pockets, she moved back to her own house.
