Grandma was clearly
the exception in the family
qualifications, money
semi-detached house in Jersey Road, Osterley

A headmistress, seamstress
husband in the accountancy business
antiques, interests
drove down to visit, Easter, Christmas

Remarried at eighty
to Dennis, berthing there lately
liverish, shady
discharged drunk from the merchant navy

Moved this way
bungalow, blinds down all day
bills unpaid
an upright piano for an ashtray

When we’d call
Dennis watched from the door
disputed, deplored
rheumy eyes on a ruined floor

Suddenly they vanished
everything sold, bank accounts ravished
panic, anguish
a detective assessed with objective language

It was egregious
eventually tracked with police procedures
distressing features
dumped in a caravan, Bognor Regis

Dennis was ferocious
but his health was atrocious
coroner’s diagnosis?
chronic kidney disease and advanced cirrhosis

Grandma moved back
to a home, wheelchair, bric-a-brac
medicated, relaxed
blue hydrangeas blooming with swimming hats

A peaceful environment
we’d sit in sunny enlightenment
fuddled wonderment
curling smoke from a Peter Stuyvesant

When she died
it was late at night
stepped outside
silver pins in a pincushion sky

let me see
the coldest I think I’ve ever been
was when I was sixteen

it was the winter of ‘78
and I’d gone on a date
by mistake

I was sitting on a ferris wheel
next to a girl called Lucille
It wasn’t just the middle of December
it was a contender
for the worst winter
anyone could remember
whatever
I didn’t care about weather
I was wearing my light leather bomber
the one with the studded nehru collar
because I thought it made me look tough
even though it wasn’t remotely warm enough
and didn’t have any pockets for stuff

I don’t remember what Lucille was wearing
I was ten degrees past caring
and falling
but I do remember her calling
me lots of disparaging names
because she thought I was lame
and the date was too tame
and she should’ve gone to the fair with Wayne
who’d copped off with her best friend Jayne
so she’d been forced to say yes to me
and sat and suffered next to me
cursing the tragic destiny
of a sub zero life with sub zero chemistry

I do remember she had red hair, though
which I tried to imagine was the glow
from a lovely warm fire
as the ferris wheel rose higher and higher
and the blood slowed and froze in my veins
and my legs pistoned in my jeans
and I folded my arms
and gritted my teeth
freezing to death
trying to pretend my breath
was smoke
which only provoked
Lucille even more
and she swore
and narrowed her eyes at the night beyond the door
as we shook and shivered on the hard metal seats
and I tried to look cool like Danny from Grease

I shared a bedroom with my two brothers
it’s fair to say none of us
liked the arrangement
(and probably accounts for the subsequent estrangement)

we fought about the usual stuff
who had space, who didn’t have enough
but the thing that caused the biggest fight
was whether the door stayed open at night

I said if there was a ghost
I’d want it to float
in and out freely
they disagreed completely
they could absolutely guarantee for sure
even the dumbest ghost can walk through a bedroom door

their arguments were sharp and well rehearsed
but I was youngest so I came to bed first
the door was left open and I eased into the night
happily staring at the landing light

when they crept up later at nine
they’d come and put their faces close to mine
to test if I was asleep or faking it
because if I was awake I couldn’t be taking it

little did they know
I could go nose to nose
with any of those bozos
because I’d transfer my anxiety into my toes
which I’d be furiously wiggling
instead of giggling
so unless you monitored the duvet
you’d have no way
of knowing
my wakefulness was showing

it was one of my superhero strengths
and the reason I went to such lengths
was because although as I said before
I didn’t want them shutting the bedroom door
I was always much more interested to know
what secrets they’d share when the door was closed

My best friend’s dad, Mr Banham, was called Jim
at least – that’s what everybody called him
the same as me
although really
his name was Stanley
apparently

anyway

sometimes I’d go with their family
on trips to the sea
Hunstanton or Brancaster
in a crappy Ford Anglia
where Stanley
(or Jim
whatever you want to call him)
had this hilarious trick
where he’d kick
a beach ball high in the air
then bounce it once on his hairless head
and drop straight down as if he was dead

He took us to a safari park
wound the window down
passed a bag of plums around
to the baboons on the bonnet
which was scary, if I’m honest
all those leathery hands
reaching through the gap
till a man in a hat
came racing over
in a jungle-themed Range Rover
Wind that window up! he shouted
furious that the rules were flouted

I don’t remember Jim’s wife’s name
but her eyes were level and blue
I heard she died
by suicide
and I thought of that afternoon
the hands of the baboons
flexing, reaching in frantically
for the plums, Mrs Banham, and me

I went for a walk with Stanley on Mars
but he didn’t get on with the fancy cars

the first head-turner
was Sojourner
perched on a ridge without a murmur
Stanley barked and went bounding over

then there was Curiosity
its solar arrays in a haze of luminosity
Stanley responded with animosity
went at it with murderous velocity

and Opportunity?
at first they seemed to get along beautifully
but I look back now on the whole thing ruefully
it started well but ended brutally

Perseverance?
not adherents
Stanley responded with incoherence
didn’t like its general appearance

what can I say?
I had to tempt him away
with whatever treats I had in my pocket
and drag him back to my dustbin rocket

these Martian walks get stupider and stupider
I guess next week we’ll be trying Jupiter

when you’re safely back indoors
from a wild and muddy walk across the moors
Stanley absolutely DOES NOT sprawl with his paws
and rattle the house with his Baskerville snores

when you’re sitting quietly writing at the laptop
and break to give your cold coffee cup a top up
Stanley definitely WILL NOT howl and unexpectedly leap up
because you didn’t see him very sneakily creep up

when you’re slumped in front of the TV bingeing Sopranos
an hour or more since your last significant sofa pose
Stanley certainly SHALL NOT hold you down with his nose
till your legs are dead and so are your toes

when you’re tiptoeing past a bunch of horses
as slowly and carefully as elderly tortoises
Stanley’s MOST ABSOLUTELY GUARANTEED course is
NOT to bark till his voice too hoarse is

Detective Jimmy ‘The Florist’ McQuaide
sick of the whole, sad city bouquet
flips his signature clip-on shades
ironically salutes the gerberas on display
then steps outside for one last trade

The chief has given him 24hrs
to use his special ikebana powers
to crack the trade in artificial flowers
that’s flooding the city’s glitzy towers
with long-life, wipe-clean plastic bowers

He tracks a guy named Frank O’Hara
to a container ship in the city harbour
recently in from Puerto Vallarta
hotter than a tub of lava
stuffed full of synthetic hibiscus & guava

McQuaide dresses up as the ship’s physician
but immediately arouses the crew’s suspicion
when he wears the steth in the wrong position
and after some gunpoint exposition
gets neatly tied up with raffia and ribbon

Frank saunters cockily onto deck
a Hawaiin lei around his neck
Why – it’s McQuaide! The flower ‘tec!
What brings you out to this old wreck?
Still hanging on for that retirement check?

But McQuaide has worked his right leg free
and kicks O’Hara in the knee
who screams and falls back heavily
and grabs a lever frantically
which starts a self-destruct, luckily

McQuaide has time to dive overboard
and swim off quick to the nearby shore
when the whole ship rips with a terrible roar
and a thousand tonnes of flowers or more
are taken off the market for sure

Back at the precinct the chief’s not impressed
‘I’m sick of your bullshit, McQuaide!’ he says
‘What’s wrong with making a simple arrest?
Why’d’ya gotta make such a goddamn mess?’
‘I dunno,’ says McQuaide. ‘Take a wild guess’

Then he sighs and lays down his secateurs
his gold discount card at the stationers
says : ‘Gladioli to’ve known you, brother!
then as the furious Chief coughs and splutters
tapes a single paper rose to the precinct shutters