“Don’t pull that face” Nanny would warn, “the wind will change and you’ll stick like it.”
Everyday, every single day, she’d trot out the same lines, and I’d carry on regardless. Grimacing at crying babies on the bus, sticking my tongue out at pedestrians in the rain from the back seat of the car, scowling at shop assistant trying to push their tat on me.
The one, the bloody only time, she was right I’d caught the end of an unseen argument. One of those doomed dramatic couples that just had to demonstrate their passion for each other in decibels. A couple of incongruous words; baboon’s arse, those were the words. “Baboon’s arse!” screamed out as an emphatic closing statement. That was all it took, and I smiled. It would have been a fleeting moment of humour. A brief facial spasm..., but the wind changed.“And she always seems so happy,” I hear, and “such a nice girl... so pleasant...,” they say. Fuckwits.
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