JEZEBEL’S INFANCY

A look at the battle of the sexes...

Jezebel had a potentially awkward start in life, but it did equip her with a few useful tools.. Without going into any graphic details I’ll mention that her father Jeremy had just moved into Number five across the road from Joan, her mother, and his very first thought was that there could be nobody in the universe quite as perfect as Joan, and this was even before Jezebel was conceived and mere moments after he first set his eyes on Joan over the embarrassed request on the subject f borrowing a cupful of sugar..

That happened the first time they met, he in need of a cup of tea and having no sugar due almost totally to a poor memory, and his accidentally achieved gender

Blame the weather, if you like. It turned to rain the moment Johnny’s eyes met Joan’s. He rationalised that it had to on account of Joan’s radiance outshining any sun that ever shone. In that instant he was besotted.

He was flexible about his need for tea and asked her if she’d join him in a glass of something more delicious and she smiled warmly and said “yes, that would give us a chance to get to know each other if we’re going to be neighbours...”

It started with some red wine, nice and fruity and Joan’s absolute favourite. Jeremy might have gone for a pint or two of best bitter but had a glass of red wine as well, in order, he thought considerately, to keep Joan company. Mind you, it was particularly good red wine. They were in Joan’s semi-detached house opposite Jeremy’s because he was only just moving in and his place, to use his own description, was still upside down.

Joan’s wasn’t.

Let’s cut out the personal bit and content ourselves with assuming the best (or the worst if you adhere to what some might look on as an outmoded morality). But let’s move quite late on in the evening and the two of them getting very well acquainted, and she said,

“It’s still raining and you might get wet crossing the road, and those look like new shoes,”

and he looked out of the window and shuddered and agreed by saying,

“yes, it’s raining cats and dogs and I only bought them last week week,”

and she smiled and suggested, “you can stay for the night if you like, but I’ve only got the one bed so you’ll have to share.”

He nodded, thinking it was only the gentlemanly thing to do on an autumn night like this, and so he followed her up the stairs, grateful that he’d had to foresight of slipping his toothbrush into a pocket.

It was a lovely bedroom, he thought, very feminine. It even smelt feminine. It had that particular mixture of aromas and perfumes that could never be masculine, which was odd seeing the he really liked it and preferred it to his own across the road when he was actually occupying it.

And her bed could never be masculine either, probably on account of the veritable zoo of stuffed creatures that lay across her pink pillows.

Yes, pillows, in the plural. She had two of those, as if the bed was meant all along to be shared with someone.

It was, but she thought it best not to explain just yet.

Anyway, they both climbed into bed almost coyly and almost immediately Jezebel’s creation was was mysteriously being instigated almost feverishly. And next morning, just in case something had gone wrong last night, they mutually agreed to instigate a back-up plan.

Which meant that Jezebel was really wanted. You don’t discuss a back-up plan if what you’re backing up doesn’t really matter, do you?

That was a wet autumn and by a hot early summer Jezebel put in an appearance.

And by that time the house across the road was sold and Joan, Jeremy and Jezebel all lived together in number five.

It didn’t take Jezebel long to sum things up. It’s amazing how quickly young infants can get a close understanding of the way the various breezes that circulate through families blow.

The first thing she learned was that the grown up with the deep voice who spent a huge amount of time growling “daddy” at her liked to shout very loud for no apparent reason, and that shouting apparently upset the sweet and cooing half of the grown partnership up to the extent that mummy did a very normal thing for a baby like Jezebel, and shed real tears.

In truth the two parents had demonstrated the simple fact, that first impressions can be very wrong indeed. The woman Jeremy had first seen as absolutely perfect turned out to have faults, like not doing what he told her to do when he told her to do it. And what really made him angry was the way his Joan insisted in living her own life as she wanted. Why, she even chose not to prepare his meals, for goodness sake, saying that they’d both been our at work so it was wrong, in her opinion, for such chores to fall solely on her shoulders.

And as she grew a little older and could understand such matters Jezebel got to realise that it was a darned good job her parents never got married.

Because one day before she was old enough to go to school mummy (she learned to call her mummy before she learned to call him daddy because mummy often called him b*****d instead) arranged for another b*****d to come and take the two of them away.

In that time she put down the basic understanding that men are selfish and shout a lot, and are even capable of hitting out, and that can be used against them if the girl is clever enough.

She knew that she would be in the future. Pity mummy wasn’t.

© Peter Rogerson 20.06.22

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