They think its all over. Its is now and Lambo is devastated.
Its over, my life had has ended. One single place from glory. Starfish, the goddess Sheila Gibbons, came fifth in her semi-final. She is out, its all over. She was even the third fastest looser so missed the final by just one place.
She had a really crap start, her left foot seemed to slip as she pushed out of her blocks. I could see the pain in her eyes. At 40 meters she was last, by a mile.
And then, Packhorse Lill (my pet name for Sheila) came to life. It was back, that true dogged determination you all know Sheila for. Fists clenched, arms pumping, and Sheila was flying. It really was a matter of life or death.
Seventh by 70 meters, sixth by 90 and fifth as she crossed the line. Another ten meters and who knows?
She really had given her all, on crossing the line she collapsed and taken away on a stretcher.
Two district and me managed to rest her in the electric, hospice, bed where she lay still. She new it was all over.
Lambo is devastated. His sobbling is uncotrolabe. He keeps muttering, 'Its all my fault, I am such an egotistical arsehole. How dare I put her through such pain and suffering for my own glory'. I tried to console him, he pushed me away. He sreamed, 'fuck the lot of you', ran to his car and drove off. He even let his phone on the kitchen table so I can't contact him. Oh dear and all this on top of loosing his farewell Luxy Tours with his goddess, Sheila.
I know he will head straight to The Digby Tapp and consume vast amounts of Red Stripe, his favourite. Please Lambo, look after yourself. Please don't think you can drive home, please get a taxi.
Lambo is a broken man.
Shortly after, her Doctor Charlie arrived. Not good and looked to the ceiling when I asked how long.
So now, I need to share with you and my world has also imploded. Apple juice and hot water, a pint even, Om.
Excuse me a moment as someone is banging on my door. He looks like one of the dudes that stood on the finish line. 'Just fuck of, I don't want to talk to anyone'. He keeps banging, so I open the door and scream in his face. 'What the fuck do you want'. He says.
'Ben Johnson just been disqualified'
'So fucking what'
'It means Sheila is now in the final as second fastest looser'.
'Sheila is done, she can't even run to the loo. Now fuck off and leave me alone'.
I walk back into Sheilas bedroom, she is in the fetal position. Lying in her electric bed unable to move. It hits me like a brick! Tonight will be the first time we have not shared our marital bed. I sit sobbing. I kiss her gently and wispier, 'Ben Johnson was disqualified my love. You did make the final after all'. I retire to the kitchen but not really hungry.
I do hope Lambo is OK.
As a lad [from Featherstone] I remember having to say some words when my truth was questioned. I had to say, 'I swear on my mother (Little Betty) dying deathbed what I am saying is true.
OK, I swear on my mothers dying deathbed what happens next is true:
I walk into Sheilas bedroom. Her hospital bed is empty. Oh my god, head spinning, where is she!
Starfish is sat in a crumpled mes on the floor, one hand on the commode.
I hold her, cradle her whist sobbing. Starfish what on earth are you doing.
After a while I work out she needs the loo. Long wee. She now wants, tea, blueberries and some fresh mango. I get ready to help her back onto the bed.. Strarfish gestures with her hand towards her own bed, she wants to be back in our marital bed. I carry her back and lay her gently on the bed. She falls into a deep sleep.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Starfish knows she is in the final and not quitting yet. Game on!
Please Universe guide Lambo safely home. Lambo you are needed like never before, Starfish is now in the final of her very own Olympic games.
Packhorse Lill is going nowhere yet!
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