Domino Effect

Hi,

You can call me Alf, which is actually a pseudonym because I want to keep my real name, Arthur, a secret, and I swear on the life of this crocodile sitting on my lap, that every other word or so of the tale I am about to tell you is the truth. As they have to say in British courts of law, The truth, the whole truth, and nothing like the truth."

So I'll begin.

It was a dark and damp evening in old London town as the swirling fog began to descend on the early commuters, shivering with the cold as they started their uncomfortable journey homeward.

Fortunately for me I was two hundred miles away playing dominos on my computer, when my concentration was spoiled by the ding-dong of the front door bell ringing.

"Can you get that Alf," came the shout from the kitchen. "I'm just putting our dinner in the oven."

With a grunt of mild annoyance, I rose slowly from my chair, and made my way through to the door and opened it, only to find the light blocked out by the huge individual who was standing there impatiently.

"Where's the bitch?" Man mountain growled at me as he shoved me back, ducked and having to turn sideways to ease himself through the doorway.

"Pardon," seemed an appropriate response at the time.

"The bitch," he repeated staring around the entrance hall as if there might be the odd bitch or two hanging up on the wall amongst the pictures. "Don't know her name but I'm told she lives here, and My little willy needs sucking."

"I really don't think....." which is as far as I got, as he frowned a terrible frown at me, and took a menacing step towards me.

Showing commendable bravery in the face of such a home invasion, I only took two steps back, and waved my hands in the air a little in order to try to confuse him.

Didn't work!

"Where is she. The bitch, where is she," he demanded, reaching down and placing his hand on top of my head, in a most worryingly manner.

"But there's only one woman here, and she's my....." which was again as far as I got as he grabbed a handful of my hair and lifted me up onto my tippy toes.

"I think you'd better come out. We've got a visitor," I shouted in the direction of the kitchen, there seeming to be no other option which would leave me compos mentis.

The kitchen door opened and my seventy two year old grandmother, all five foot one of her came striding out.

I just knew she wasn't the bitch he was expecting, and that this could all end up very badly.

"What are you doing here Timothy Smallholding?" Granny, as I called her, snapped at my aggressor. "And put my grandson down or I'll put you over my knee and give you a good spanking."

Timothy, as I now knew him to be, gulped, stood to attention, and dropped me, clearly recognising Granny as his old headmistress, as most of the local population who had attended the local school in recent decades would also have done so.

-----

Now I should add here, for the avoidance of doubt, that Granny was only here because Mum was away in Japan for the week, officiating at an international Judo competition. Granny was cooking for me and keeping an eye on the family business in town, the martial arts centre which she had created some years previously. Normally of course one of my sisters would have done that, but Jean was off on a training week with the British Olympic Tai Kwon-do team, and Jane was off on another one of her overseas ventures of some sort with the SAS, and of course couldn't be contacted.

The whole family were outstanding in one thing or another, my speciality currently being dominos, at which I'd recently won the monthly club championship of the tuesday night group who met down the local pub.

Ok, so maybe there were only four of us, but three of our number were quite serious, even if old Tom was getting very forgetful and Mick, who couldn't hold his drink, was usually pissed by the time we started playing.

Credit where credit is due I say.

-------

Where was I?

Oh yes!

"What was it they called you at school?" Granny questioned him, advancing towards him. 'Snotty, wasn't it? Not very kind even if it was true."

Snotty ( I preferred that) backed off a couple of steps as Granny approached him, the rotten, hopeless coward who couldn't hold his ground. Didn't even risk waving his hands in the air like a real man might.

"So what is it you want?" She asked.

"Nothing Miss," he squeaked in reply. "Just passing. Wrong house. Wrong town. Wrong day. What time is it? I'd better be going."

"I think maybe he's looking for my ex wife," I ventured, slipping behind my grandmother so that I could protect her if things turned nasty. "You'll find her down the road at number sixty three."

"That's it," Snotty cried his voice quaking, "I'll be off. Number sixty three you say."

With that he turned on his heels and disappeared back out through the door, mysteriously no longer seeming to need to duck or turn sideways. He left, a lesser man than he'd been when he'd arrived, and put in his place by the better man.

Granny ambled back to the kitchen mumbling something about today's kids not being what they used to be, while I popped my head round the door to see where he was heading.

Oh dear! He was indeed heading down to number sixty three, which meant that it could all end in tears after all. I'd clean forgotten to mention that my ex wife was shacked up down there with Muscles Malone!

If I rushed after him I could probably have stopped him, but decided to make myself a cup of tea instead while I waited for world war three to break out.

Didn't have to wait long before with a ring-a ding dong, the ambulance from the local hospital rushed by and pulled up in front of number sixty three.

"I wonder if that's for Muscles or Snotty?" I found myself wondering, but didn't have to wonder for long as with a di dar-di dar-di dar, a second ambulance charged by and screeched to a halt behind the first one.

I went back to my dominos.

-----

Now the story could have ended there, and no doubt some of you noble chaps are wishing it had. But tough titties, because my trials were not completely over.

I fairly quickly discovered that my ex wife had quickly got fed up with Muscles and Snotty arguing, and had promptly and quickly dealt with the pair of them, beating them up and putting them both in hospital. But all that did in the end was leave me with a difficult decision to make, as she declared her undying love for me and wanted us to get back together again, regretting her decision of walking out on me.

All very well, and she was a real beauty, a great cook and I would describe her as unsachable in bed if I could spell it. (Or even pronounce it).

But she really had over reacted.

I mean maybe I shouldn't have had my hand up that Ukrainian model's skirt when she caught us, and in any case there was hardly enough skirt on her for me to get my hand up. In any case it was an honest attempt to find if she was telling a 'porky pie' when she told me she never wore any underwear.

Then again ex wifey was favourite to be the next 'Bond girl' in the next James Bond film which they were already planning, and the rumours were that she might even be the first woman to play the lead. If she did then she'd earn a fortune and in a few years could be almost as rich as I was! Well nearly!

Or should I stick with my new girl Amanda? The lovely Amanda who I'd met at a family wedding at that country estate, only to discover that she owned it.

Decisions, decisions!

Of course the on line dominos game I was playing was one of a number that I'd written the code for and owned the marketing rights on. With any luck it could be as big a money spinner as my last one, the hugely successful Tiddly Winks for beginners. Pity I couldn't seem to advance beyond intermediate level.

So readers what decision should I make? Please help me.

Should I put the double six domino I've just picked up down straight away, or should I use the double blank in my hand first?

+++++

Private note for Denham/the Wanderer;

You may have guessed that Amanda was our fan that I mentioned to you.