by Lauren Rogers

Created on: November 08, 2008

Just the One Blackbird

The ice was broken. I'd been so nervous but now I was having hysterics. Then they all started. His mother began first, a really evil laugh, and then Darren's dad, then Darren and then his sister, Caty. And we just couldn't stop. I never believed my first introduction to his parents would be so strange. But it helped break the ice.

Darren and I (my name's Sharon by the way so it's Darren and Sharon go on have a laugh now and get it over with) met in a night-club. He was with his wife and I was with a friend from work. Later that year we did a swap. Me and him got together and his wife took up with the friend from work. I never really saw eye-to-eye with her after that. (The friend from work I mean, not his wife. I never did see eye-to-eye with his wife!)

Darren moved into a flat and found someone to share the bills with. (He was a weird chap who took all his washing home to mummy every Friday.) Darren lived there for a year or so. The first week involved a visit from the older sister'. She admitted she'd been sent on a recce by her mother and went round the flat ticking things off on a list.

"What's that?" I asked Caty in all innocence.
"The dragon's check-list," she replied, counting the chairs around the dining room table. I followed her.
"Check list?"
"Yep."
"Dragon?"
"Yep."

(I asked Darren later what it was but he just said the same thing: "It's the check-list. Mum's check-list." As if that explained everything.)

We went out to the local pub with Caty (yes, Katy with a C). She seemed OK but eventually asked me if I was the new woman'.
"Oh, no," I lied. "Just a friend." (Now she must think I'm a right idiot when I'm still coming for Christmas dinner at her parents' 3 years later.)

Darren's mum and dad visited Darren when he first moved into the flat and I had to make myself scarce.
"She's not happy about me breaking up with Marion. And she won't be happy that I've taken up with you," Darren said.
"That doesn't sound very nice," I whined.
"I mean, she'd not be happy I'd taken up with anyone. She breathes fire. And she'd turn you into ash if she knew you existed. Just keep out of her way."
"When are you going to tell her then?"
"In 10 years," he said and then peeped from behind the computer magazine he was trying to read and winked. "She might've got over it by then."

Later in the week I helped Darren unpack some stuff and found a bag of photos. There were some from his wedding.
"Who's that?" I asked leaning back against the headboard.
"Which one?" he said

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