Today in the garden you are lying all loose and relaxed, stretching languidly out in the sun. On the recliner you look blissfully happy. But in my opinion you’re more naked than decent even for July. A long glass of cool refreshing lemonade sits by your side untouched. The book you are reading is by no means a classic and there’s an occasional twitch of your big right toe. And so now I’m getting the tiniest feeling your look of serene contentment is feigned and that in actual fact my company and good conversation is what you need. So me sensing these needs like any good partner should, I decide to join you with my cup of hot milky tea and a plate of digestive biscuits.

‘Hello dear.’ I say standing over you.

‘Oh…hello… and what do you want?’ You say looking up squinting, wondering what’s blocking the sun.

‘I thought I’d come and join you on this lovely summers day dear.’ I say slumping awkwardly down on a deck chair… nearly spilling my tea.

‘Oh…did you? Wonderful!’ You say, and your body begins to scrunch and I can see the tiniest, tiniest grimace. So it looks like my sharp male intuition was right.

‘Yes, I thought you might like some company…you looked so lonely out here.’

Your eyes ever so briefly peek to the heavens and your lips do that ever so cute frowny twisty type thing; yep I was right, definitely mild irritation, and what a good job it was I spotted this from the kitchen window. You put on your tacky shades to hide your eyes so I can’t read them, but I know your body and the secrets it gives away.

‘Lonely?’ You say. ‘Now how pray did you deduce that Sherlock?’

Yes already a definite defensive attitude here!

‘Body language.’ I say.

‘Body language! You just said body language didn’t you… oh dear me, have I got to hear this.’ You say scornfully, your eyes are now peering over the rims of your shades in a kind of headmistressy/predatory type way.

‘Well,’ I say, ‘I’ve known you for yonks and yonks and to be perfectly frank I think I can now read you like a book.’

You sit up very quickly, nearly falling off the recliner.

You know you’ve got quite a hurtful even evil laugh when you take the piss, and quite frankly you guffawing at my last remark like a manic hyena on Prozac was quite uncalled for…but I do care and I know I’m on the right trail, so no I will not be swayed.

‘My darling,’ you say still laughing, your eyes still glistening with merriment,
‘You say you can read me like a book? Oh do tell please… because here I am sitting in the garden on a gorgeous sunny day, a long cool drink in one hand and a good book in the other, totally relaxed and at peace with myself, enjoying my own company and you think I’m lonely?’

‘Yes.’ I say.

You’re still laughing.

‘Well come on Sigmund! What were these so called signs, spill the beans I’m all bloody ears now.’ You say grinning.

You’ve always been very supportive in building up my self-esteem…Huh!

‘Erm…well it hard to articulate really, the signs are very subtle, but I think instinct and experience mean I can probably read you in very much the same way as you can read me.’ I say.

You laugh really loudly again!

‘What?’ I say.

‘Oh nothing.’ You say.

‘No go on.’ I say.

‘Oh I passed on the Janet and John books years ago darling.’ You say.

‘What do you mean by that?’ I say

‘Hah!’ You snort giggling away.

‘Are you saying I’m easy to read?’ I say.

‘Give the boy a bloody coconut.’ You say.

‘Bloody well how?’ I say.

You look at me in that unique woman’s way, that way that makes me feel pathetic and nervous, then you do that other clever woman’s thing.

‘Why on earth are you wearing that ridiculous sweater on this boiling hot day?

‘What?’

‘It’s eighty four degrees and you decide to drink hot tea and dress like Giles Brandreth’s gimp brother…how weird are you?’

‘I am not weird!’

‘Oh yes you bloody well are.’

‘I bloody well am not.’

‘Yes you are!’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes you are!’ You say this very firmly this time.

‘…What’s wrong with my sweater?’

‘You look like one of those pillocks from a nineteen seventies Blue Peter convention.’

‘I do not!’ I say.

‘Yes you do.’ You say

‘Do…not.’ I say.

‘Can I read my book in peace now…please?’ You say.

Oh that was very good, yes very good and clever. But if you’re going to cheat like that…then so am i.

‘It was the evil stepson that did it…it all gets revealed on page 373,’ I say.

That made you give a very long exasperated sigh.

‘Thank you.’ You say slamming the book. ‘I was getting bored with it anyway.’

You lay back on the recliner close your eyes…and smile? But oh no little lady you’re kidding no one, I won that little exchange and no mistake.

‘What are you doing now?’

There’s a slight pause for a moment and then another very long sigh.

‘Well isn’t it obvious? I’m milking a fucking goat aren’t I?’

‘Why? I mean what?’

You make that growling hissing sound that usually makes me very nervous and afraid. Today is no exception, and I nearly bite my tongue when I crunch down on my digestive biscuit.

‘I am or should I say was enjoying myself on this fucking glorious day soaking up the fucking rays, now why can’t you piss off and play? Watch the football or something?’

There’s another slight pause.

‘It’s early July dear, there isn’t any football played in July.’ I say.

‘Eh? What about that world cup thing they have?’

‘Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Typical…just the sort of thing a silly woman would say.’

‘What?’ You say looking very cross.

‘It’s 2005 dear.’ I say.

‘And?’ You still look very cross.

I’m beginning to wish I’d stayed in now.

‘You don’t have world cups played on odd years dear.’ I say.

‘Why?’ You say.

‘Because.’ I say.

‘Because of what?’

You know it’s amazing, I always forget how really angry you can get when you get annoyed.

‘Because it would be…very, very silly…that’s why.’ I say. I want to go back inside now…desperately.

‘Oh I see!’ You say. ‘ So big hairy men in silly shorts with silly haircuts, running around a field in the middle of the summer, chasing a round ball of pigskin aren’t actually silly if the year is divisible by two, but they are if it’s not. Is that what you’re saying?’

‘No…I mean yes…erm… what was the question again?’ I say.

Now there’s that look you do again. Yes I might have to pop back in for more biscuits in a minute.

‘You don’t actually know why do you?’ you say.

‘No.’ I say.

‘You’re a very, very stupid man.’ You say.

‘Yes dear.’ I say.

You turn away and carry on reading the book anyway, even though you know the ending. It’s a personal slight directed at me, that you’d rather read this book than talk to me.

During this awkward pause it would have been wise to escape to the inner sanctum of the house…but I am male, I am the one with the testosterone, I cannot, I will not fail…oh god I’m like a bloody moth attracted to the flame, so I stay.

While you’re back is tuned I can be very brave indeed, and so I mouth insults without you seeing. I came out to help today and look at the bloody thanks I got!

You turn and face me again all of a sudden and I try to pretend I was looking away.

‘What are you doing now…I don’t like it when you’re quiet, mind you I’m not too keen when you make noise either.’ You say.

I try sarcasm too.

‘I’m milking a fucking goat dear. Isn’t it obvious?’ I say.

‘You were looking at me weren’t you?’ You say.

‘I beg your pardon…I was not.’

‘Yes you were…were you perving me just now?’

‘Certainly not!’

‘Yes you were.’

‘I wasn’t!’

‘You were ogling my bum.’

‘I certainly was not!’ I say.

‘Pervert!’ You say and turn away again.

I’m overwhelmed by your response to my concern for your well being, you now regard me as an unfashionable, weird, stupid, perverted gimp…marvellous!

So how do I redeem myself and regain (?) your respect? Today could well be death wish day and I should really have returned to the house at least ten minutes ago…but…

‘The human body is a funny thing isn’t it?’ I say.

Again there’s a long pause.

‘Are you talking to me or thinking aloud?’ You say.

‘I wasn’t ogling your bum, which is very nice by the way…I was just thinking how funny the human body is sometimes.’

Another pause.

‘Oh right! You were looking at me when this revelation came into your head?’

You just want a bloody argument you do, I’m not taking that bait.

‘Tits.’ I say.

‘Pardon!’

‘Tits or breasts rather…I mean you’d think nature would make them all symmetrical, but it’s quite rare apparently…I mean yours for instance aren’t symmetrical are they dear?’

I think I can hear your teeth grinding, not usually a good sign.

‘How nice of you to notice and mention that dear! Now could I just warn you that if continued, this particular line of conversation will be very dangerous to your health.’

‘Really…but your breasts are also lovely even if they…’

‘One more word darling about my tits or any other part of my anatomy, and you will be wearing your very own unsymmetrical testicles as a pair of earrings, that I can promise you.’

‘Oh!’ I say.

So now I’m in danger of being turned into a eunuch now.

‘My testicles aren’t unsymmetrical…are they?’ I say.

‘They will be, oh they soon will be.’

The back door to the kitchen looks a long, long way off. So I shall persevere.

‘You know I once read an article about violence in the marital home, or rather how often on average the wife contemplates murdering her spouse during a marriage.’

‘Fascinating!’

‘Yes it is, isn’t it? Can you guess how often?’

‘What per minute you mean?’

‘No during the whole marriage silly.’

‘I’ll nip inside and get a calculator shall I?’

‘Twice.’ I say.

‘Blimey is that all?’

‘What do you mean is that all? How often do you think about it?’

Now you start bloody whistling and you've got a dirty big smirk on your face.

‘How often?’ I say again.

‘In the last half hour you mean?’

‘Oh I see you and I aren’t going to have an intelligent conversation today, are we dear?’

‘Doesn’t look like it does it? Missing one vital ingredient aren’t we?'

‘Oh! And what would that be dear?'

‘Two intelligent human being’s dear! We’re one short aren’t we?’

‘Oh very droll, very droll indeed.’

Yes it's time to leave and admit defeat on this day.I get up, ignore your laughing and walk away with dignity. I will make some more tea…you know I’m rather pleased with myself, I think I got off quite lightly today.