“Oh, my dear, so unexpected,” said Cordelia Bradshaw-Smith.
“Death cannot be said to be unexpected at 90,” slurred Ethel. She kept herself well medicated during the initial days of grief. Ethel kept herself well medicated most of her life.
“Oh, my dear, reality is for the poor to suffer,” replied Ethel once when she was questioned about her vices.
The investment company dear William used to cheat unsuspecting investors out of their life savings was sold off, leaving Ethel with more money than she could spend if she lived until she was one hundred, which she fully intended to do.
“Oh daaaarling, I want my letter from Liz, we were born on the same day, I deserve at least that much.”
"Well you'll have to give up the booze and the fags," said her son Jarrod.
"Nonsense, I have the constitution of an ox, my dear."
So, with no real purpose in life, she took to travelling the world. Now great grandma Ethel was a lush, no one denied that, she lived on a bottle of Cointreau and a carton of fags per day as she transversed the globe.
“I’m going to spend the summer on the continent, and afterwards I’ll decide what to do from there,” she told her Jarrod.
"I worry about you mum."
"You have more worries than me with that bitch wife of yours spending all of your money."
"MUM!"
"Well, its true darling," said Ethel. "I'm just glad I won't be here to witness it."
Ethel was straight forward, no nonsense. She would be described as lacking a filter. Ethel was funny, nobody laughed more at Ethel’s jokes than Ethel herself, although everyone laughed with her, as I said, Ethel was funny.
"What makes a queen scream twice?" said Ethel. She couldn't stifle her grin.
"I don't know," replied fat gay David. Ethel could only start seeing fat gay David again after William died. William couldn't abide shirt lifters, as he called them.
"Fuck them... in the…" Ethel cleared her throat... and started to laugh. "Then wipe your di…" Ethel laughed some more. "Your d…" The tears rolled down Ethel's face. "Wipe your…" Ethel couldn't finish.
"What darling?" said Xavier Camden-Moggs Ethel’s best friend?
"Your…" Ethel laughed some more.
"Oh daarl, spit it out," said fat gay David.
"You've said that before," said Xavier Camden-Moggs.
"Usually followed by not on my face," said fat gay David.
"Wipe your dick on his curtains," Ethel blurted out. She cried with laughter.
"Oh Ethel!" said fat gay David.
"I remember when I had a dick," said Xavier Camden-Moggs. She chuckled.
Ethel had many friends all over the world, she set about seeing them all after William died.
Xavier Camden-Moggs lived in Hawaii, and had done so for many years. "Nobody looks sideways at some bare-foot sun damaged old hag in a sarong over here."
So her place was the first stop.
“Oh, Xavs, you are so lucky living here with this climate.”
“Eth,” replied Xavier Camden-Moggs in her baritone voice. “If you lived on cake every day, you’d soon think cake was nothing special.”
"I'd rather grow tired of gold than tin though, my dear."
"Yes, of course you are right," said Camden-Moggs. "But it is the first thing EVERYBODY says…" Camden-Moggs eyes were as wide as her boredom was deep.
"Well, I'm sorry for being SO predictable."
"Oh Eth, it is me, I'm a cranky old cunt now a days. Perhaps, I need some more pills?" She reached for one of the many pill boxes on the coffee table.
"Shall we pop on our bikinis," said Ethel. "And go down the beach and pick ourselves up a life saver…"
"Oh daaaarling, you are such a scream," said Camden-Moggs in her baritone voice.
"Don't worry hun, my days of picking up lifesavers are well behind me."
"My days of being a life saver are exactly the same."
The two women laughed.
"Champagne, darling?"
"Oh lovely, darling…"
"I always wash my hormones down with a glass of bubbly this time of the morning."
Ethel popped into London, her old stomping ground in the 1950s. She hadn't seen Georgia Jones since before she was married, just cards at Xmas.
"It's been soooooo long," said Georgia. "And we have both got sooooo old."
"You know William hated to travel…"
"William hated everything," replied Georgia. "But let's not mention him again. Come on, there is a bar just near here."
"You are talking my language," said Ethel. "Good to see somethings never change."
"Fuck me, Eth, what else are we supposed to do at this age, I ask you?"
"Get a cat?"
The two women laugh loudly.
Georgia put two glasses of Cointreau on the rocks down in front of them. "So Eth, tell me everything," said Georgia. "How's you gorgeous son, Jarrod."
"Oh such a disappointment," said Ethel. "Still with the bitch wife."
"Oh."
"I so wanted a gay son," said Ethel. "But it wasn't to be."
"But you have a lovely grandson," said Georgia.
"Yes, yes, I do it is true," said Ethel. "Lovely Cooper, he's growing into such a handsome boy. And he's been in all of his school musicals, so there is hope for him yet."
"And you darling, what are your plans?"
“I’m off to squat over a mirror on a prayer mat in India, to find my…"
"Inner self."
"Inner self, yes. That and some meditation."
"Sounds grand," said Georgia.
Ethel arrived in Mumbai on Air India. It was hotter than even she expected. She, of course, had her hipflask of booze, which she sipped from regularly.
She had on a sheath dress, and had many scarves to wipe the sweat from her face. She was met by Abdul, who she thought was rather handsome. She was tempted to tell him she had no knickers on, but she thought better of it.
"Is it always this hot, Abdul?"
"Oh yes, I'm afraid it is."
They jumped in Abdul's Hindustan Ambassador and he drove her to her hotel. Abdul saw her swigging from his alcohol flask in the revision mirror.
"That probably doesn't help…"
"It's lemony," said Ethel. "It's like fruit, only liquid."
"Even so, it is probably not a good mix with the heat."
"I don't know what I'd do without it now."
"Very good miss," said Abdul.
It was hot in the morning and Ethel found she couldn't eat. "Just a liquid brekky for me."
Ethel made it to Miss Goswami's meditation session early.
She got her mat and sat at the front of the class. She was light headed. It was the humidity and the heat. It was probably the lack of proper hydration if we are being real.
Miss Goswami had just started her soft chant. Ethel was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Maybe those extra shots weren't such a good idea.
The room whited out. Oh, dam it, were Ethel's last words.
Miss Goswami saw her latest pupil fall forward face first until she lay face down on the floor.
"Miss Ethel," Miss Goswami said.
Ethel didn't move.
"Miss Ethel?"
Nothing.
Miss Goswami got up and quickly made her way to Ethel face down on her mat. She took Ethel's wrist and checked for a pulse.
Ethel had made provisions in her will for just such an occurrence. She was to be cremated first, and her ashes were to be transported back to Australia. She wanted it to be easy on everyone, and she could never understand the hang up with bodies so many people had.
So accordingly, her body was taken to the city mortuary and she was cremated in one of Mumbai's antiquated furnaces. The problem was that Ethel was 100% proof, and the crematorium exploded taking out the two workers in attendance and the temple next door, which no doubt would have amused Ethel no end being a lifelong atheist.
“Where was the god you so feverishly prayed to that day?” she would have asked. No doubt she would have been laughing at her own words.
Now that's an exit.
Ethel always said she liked to make a grand exit. "Leave them guessing," was one of her favourite things to say.
The explosion left a lot of people guessing.
No comments:
Post a Comment