Clovenhoof's Diary: January by Heide Goody & Iain Grant

Author:Heide Goody & Iain Grant [Goody, Heide]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Humor, Humour, Comedy, Birmingham, Satan, Heaven, hell
Publisher: Pigeon Park Press
Published: 2019-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

20th January

Maude had invited Clovenhoof round for some Sunday fun with oils. He was briefly disappointed to discover that she was talking about paints rather than the sort of oils that they might rub into each other’s naked bodies, but he soon cheered up when he saw the size of the canvas that she had prepared.

“We’re going life-sized then?” he asked.

“We certainly are,” she said. “It was such a bargain. I couldn’t say no. It could work out expensive in terms of paint, but I can’t wait to capture your interesting cragginess in its full naked glory.”

Clovenhoof took the hint and disrobed.

“I think we’ll put you nearer to the window,” said Maude. “I want to capture every wrinkle.”

Clovenhoof went over and lounged against the side of the large window. It was a comfortable spot and it made it much more interesting as he could gaze outside and see people coming and going. He could see a florist from where he stood.

“There are a lot of people buying flowers down there,” he said after a while.

“I expect it’s the time of year,” said Maude, absorbed in her work. “A little colour in the house when things are bleak and wintry outside.”

“Where do they all come from?” Clovenhoof wondered. “The gardens haven’t got flowers in them.”

“Greenhouses in the Netherlands, I think,” said Maude.

“Ah,” said Clovenhoof darkly. “So maybe people are panic-buying them now, as they won’t be able to get them when everything grinds to a halt in March.”

Maude paused to peer at him, brush raised. “The Brexit logistics problems that we keep hearing about? My friend had her ferry crossing cancelled because of it.”

“What? Why?” asked Clovenhoof.

“The government have paid the ferry companies millions of pounds to lay on extra boats to move goods from Europe in the event of problems post-Brexit,” she said. “At least in my friend’s case, the company actually has some boats. Some of the companies with these lucrative contracts haven’t even got any.”

Clovenhoof’s mind raced. He’d seen pedalos somewhere locally. Where was that? How quickly could he get a fleet of the things together and make a pitch to the government? It sounded as though they were desperate, and Clovenhoof knew that desperation could seriously cramp someone’s negotiating position.

His reverie was interrupted by Maude making an exasperated “huh?” sound.

“Problem?” he asked.

“I thought I had more red paint than this. I swear I’ve used three tubes, but perhaps I mis-counted. I can’t see any reason why I would need so much red to paint a nude.”

“Even if he’s especially red-blooded?” asked Clovenhoof, with a wiggle of his hips.

“Perhaps it’s time to take a break from painting. It must be making you stiff,” said Maude, leading him away by the hand.

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