Anthony

My best mate Anthony has come back into my life, after a nine year estrangement. He was one of my best friends, me, Tom and Anthony. Of course, there are other's who are important, as well. I say the three, as the three of us got on so well. We were all very different, except we always "got" each other. they were the two people to who I could tell anything and they would just get it. We were on the same wave length, we were all very smart and most importantly, we had the same sense of humour.

Of course, Mark is the other person, but Mark has lived in the country for many years and has been, slightly, separated in that sense.
Tom, Anthony and I were the city guys.
Luke's in there too, but he came later.

Anthony has been through hell in the nine years apart and he has not come back unscathed. Gone is the handsome, blond shaggy-haired man who told me life was too painful and that he couldn't see me any more, the last time I saw him. Returned is a bloated, over weight man, who some how still resembles my friend.

He now lives on sickness benefits.

He calls me once a day, if not more on some days. He usually has something funny to say. A comment on life, usually wrapped up in a complaint... with a laugh.

"Still, we could be living next to Fukushima."
"Or thirsty in the Sudan."
"I read about a woman who had her face ripped off by an angry monkey."
"Bloody hell.."
He laughed. "Like they had to state the monkey was angry."
"I wonder what she did to make him do that?"
"Oh, she was probably just being human. That would be enough for me, some days, I'm telling you."

He's definitely more audible in the mornings.
It was hysterical one day. I'd been out for the entire day and night and when I got home there were three messages.
"Hello it's Anthony here."
"Hello... it's... Anthony... here."
"Ullo... it's, um... Antny... ere."
Oh, I couldn't help but laugh.

Some days it's...
"Oh I've had a bugger of a day, but soon it will be better."
"Putting your feet up, are you?"
"No. Well." Laugh. "Yes. But I've also poured myself a wine. And with that and the valium, things should be improving in roughly fifteen minutes, or so." Laugh.

He has a lap-top which he has no end of problems with. Maybe, less problems in the morning than in the evening, trouble is one generally uses such things more often in the evenings.

His sister gave him a digital camera that never seems to work. "Bloody things. It just won't connect to my lap-top in any way. I'm going to have to get Sam over to help me."

He cooks every night, what sound like, scrumptious, delicious meals. He confided in me that driving to the shops in the afternoon is problematic.

"Oh yes, last time the neighbours were mighty cross. when I left tyre tracks across their front law." Laugh. "I don't know why."
So he has to be organised, you see. There are things to be done, which needy to get done and then we can rest... medicate.

I like his calls. He tells me his news, I tell him my news, we both laugh, we both hang up. It's nice. It is when phone calls are tolerable, manageable, dare I say enjoyable. Succinct, to the point and everybody leaves smiling.