Monday, 6 June 2016

Oh, sister 30 (Memoirs of Nerys Jones vi)

The theft of our hard earned money left all of us sour
But we were goin’ to show Robert that we had the power
Sally was the best choice as she was pretty and petite
And the one most likely to fit in with the elite
Her Belfast brogue was a bit strong
But proper elocution didn’t take long
Arranged by her husband to be
Lord Montgomery
All of us were impressed with the new Sally McGhee
Or soon to be
Lady Montgomery
Wife of Hugh
The first name of the man that got his jollies from a shoe 
She even changed her first name too
She told us that she needed somethin’ new
Somethin’ more appropriate for the snooty crew
Hugh suggested Prudence but she preferred Pru
Prudence or Pru Montgomery
A lot more high society than Sally McGhee
As it got closer to the weddin’ we were all excited
The cream of London town were all invited
And that included Robert and Yvette
Hugh was one of the few that Robert hadn’t met
And unknown to the rest of us as he was Sally’s pet
She told us that he visited her once or twice a week
And round the back and through her window he liked to sneak
In order to avoid meetin’ one of his kind
He just required privacy and a place to unwind
The weddin’ took place at the Lord’s lovely manor
We weren’t guests but I got to be planner
Brought about by Sally’s persuasion
Montgomery even bought our clothes for the occasion
Sally made the most beautiful bride
And Montgomery’s face was beamin’ with pride
We could only observe from the side
But later on Sally did confide
How Robert reacted at the very first glance
As moments afterwards he asked her to dance
And stared in shock and surprise
Recognition when he looked at her eyes
 “What dae ye think ye’re daein’?” he asked her as they took to the floor. “Ye’re nothin’ but a silly wee whore.”
“And you are so much more?” she replied. “Oh, Robert, you are such a bore.”
“Och, drop the snooty act,” he told her. “Yer pronunciation is no quite exact. And these lot here might be friendly an’ pleasant, but if they were tae find oot that ye’re jist a wee Irish peasant.”
“Do what ye have to do,” she told him. “They’d believe Lord Montgomery rather than you.”
“Let’s call a truce,” he said. “Noo that ye’re part o’ the elite, ye might have a use.”
“Oh, you are so kind,” she responded. “What do you have in mind?”
“Less o’ the sarcasm for a start,” he said irritably. “Ah won’t be talked down tae by a jumped up wee tart.”
“Whatever ye have in mind, the answer is no,” she said. “But I might reconsider if ye pay back the money ye owe.”
“What money?” he asked. “Ah don’t know what ye mean.”
“Ye know fine well what I mean,” she said. “Stealin’ from whores is not only wrong, it’s bloody obscene.”
“But ah never stole fae you or the others,” he told her. “Ah swear oan ma mother’s life an’ ma brother’s.”
“Oh, how low you have descended,” she said to him as the music abruptly ended.  
“If ah wanted tae steal, ah’d have done it before,” he said as they left the floor.
“Lies, all lies, I don’t want to hear anymore,” she told him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to the one that I adore.”  

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