Me and Billy Butlin, 1965. The stories I could bore you with, the little devil!
Brunette Coleman – Chapter One: Bruce Blackman
My Bruce.
My first husband was American. I married late never took on his name, I mean ‘Mrs Brunette Blackman’ just didn’t seem right. We met in the late seventies as he was touring Butlin’s with his band ‘Starbuck’, oh gay old times ‘moonlight feels so right’ one of there hits a real floor filler. A classic! His American charm, oh a real gent (so I thought). I later found Bruce in bed with his band mate Bo, I was devastated. … ‘moonlight feels so right’ now, looking back must have been some gay street talk. Oh to hear it now, my little ears.
Brunette x
Brunette Coleman – Chapter Two: My Geoffrey
Then there was Geoffrey, a real sweet talker. The older gentleman, ladies is definately worth it! A magician (good with his hands). Oh we did have some good times. He loved to practice sawing my legs off , what a hoot. And, the kitchen.. preparing brunch was a trial knives everywhere flying about, what a little devil. As everything, this of course went sour. Unfortunately the drinking took over whiskey here whiskey there, whisky hidden everywhere. In every prop. He hit a downward spiral recalling the ‘good old days’ seeing a Magician performing at the ‘Gay Meadow’ in 1935. (He was just three years, eleven months old) but this Magician ‘Dr. Eddie Dawes’ started Geoffrey’s life-long addiction to the cut-throat world of magic. It got so bad ‘he’ was all Geoff talked about… DR, EDDIE THIS, Dr Eddie that. Dr. Eddie Dawes can do this..The three tricks he remembers him performing so perfectly were Aerial fishing, Razor blades from the mouth, and a Break Away vanish with two doves. It broke Geoff’s heart he could never top that. I tried, I tried so hard to help him through the bad times…but I wasn’t his perfect Ex Assistant/Ex wife Pat. Geoffrey eventually left me and returned to that sword eater!
The shame.
Arthur , oh arthur what a rogue we met at a bus-stop. Oh is that the time, well another story another time, must dash, afternoon tea needs preparing or the ‘Captain’ will get crabby.
Faithfully yours or maybe not,
Brunette Coleman x
Brunette Colemen – Chapter Three: The Professor
My third husband Arthur was a Professor. A real fop, quite the eccentric. His hair, oh just the thought of it, constantly plastered down with water, stuck up in spikes at the crown. We met at the 47 bus stop, he picked me up one Sunday afternoon. I was battling with an umbrella in a gust of wind, skirt up in the air, rain thundering down, a perfect picture, quite! Well having no car after Geoffrey, what was a girl to do. I was attempting public transportation, but on the sight of a speeding little motor car pulling up I jumped at the offer of a warm dry ride into town. ‘The weathers absolutely beastly today’, a handsome voice bellowed over the rev of the engine. Minutes later I was regretting my rash decision as the speedometer went up and up and the danger of death approached with every violent turn in the road, his driving was absolutely terrifing. Screeched into town, a tremendous swerve to avoid an old lady venturing across the road. And narrowly escaped crashing into the church wall destroying most of the flower borders, I clambered out of the automobile trying to get my bearing’s and control my wind swept bouffant! I thanked him kindly for the lift and rushed off to the little cafe on the High Street, having arranged to meet my dear old college friend Enid Harrop for afternoon tea.
After that I risked my life on a number of occasions whenever I stepped into that damn car. We married soon after, a whirlwind affair. Quite the don; he would read to me, tell me tales of the past, facsinate me with his tall tales. He was always to be found in his dark smoky study ‘The Den’ sitting in his favourite smoking jacket with leather pads sown to the elbows (by my fare hand..well Betty from the corner!) Hour after hour, researching, goodness knows what. Books and manuscripts piled high, maps, various impliments and his vast collection of antique clocks chiming here and there, Callas’s mesmerizing voice coming from the gramophone; a cacophony of sound. Authur had a few dilapidated plaques and busts of composers on his mantlepiece, a signed photograph of George Cole taken on the film of St Trinian’s set..this aways bemused me, think he must have been a school friend, sore point he would never talk about. And a stuffed fox, goodness knows why – poor little fella’(he probably got him with that bloody car startled in the headlights).
Of course not forgetting his extraordinarily large decanter of whiskey always close by. Do you see a theme? Whiskey galore… supposedly helped him think! Unfortunately like Geoff he did enjoy a tipple or three. Our marriage didn’t last long, as one night slightly drunken he , the silly bugger dangerously sped home after a late lecture , only to end up crashing into a very large oak tree.
I was then the widow Brunette Montgomery.
Brunette Colemen – Chapter Four: I am at sea
The Captain thought it best we set sail for a while, he is acting very out of sorts, something is amiss I fear the worst. There is a problem with the engine. I believe it to be the deck hands and their damn tomfoolery, they are so sly the little foxes. I haven’t seen one pirate yet I am deeply disappointed, it was promised in the shiny brochure and we are definately paying for it!. Have befriended a lobster called ‘Bertie’ he was to be lunch on Tuesday but I just couldn’t bring myself to…the chef ‘Franco’ was indeed rattled by this arrangement but the thought of him bubbling away, poor fello so I saved him. I think Franco saw my side eventually with a shrug of his broad french shoulders and eyes to the heavens! He is a joker!
I think I may be losing my marbles. If I get stranded on a small desert island, will you come and rescue me? Is that a shark?
I must dash, darn those pesky midgets,
Yours Sin-cerely Brunette x
There is nothing to do on this damn ship and I am tired of doing it, I’ve read all the interesting books I bought. If a see another prawn cocktail I will jump over board. I feel generally shat upon I am beginning to loath sea life. Well this will never do, I promise to be generally more up beat next time and hopefully on dry land, my guess in the garden sunhat, lounger, martini safely at hand and a good novel in the other! Stilettos firming on the ground not a drop of water in sight, I feel my mood lifting already. I must notify the Captain as soon as possible to my discision if I can get his attention, from that damn casino. He is the one with the sea legs not I.
Oh well chin chin. All yours, Bx
Brunette Colemen – Chapter Five: Life on the ocean wave
My ship has come in, so to speak! The engine blew up and the ship did sink, we were rescued by Pirates…! Hah ha at last I have seen my pirates. Argentinian Drug Barons, to be precise cruising by, ‘Sinbad’…. one’s imagination does tend to wonder when at sea. They were mere fishermen with real legs no wooden stumps, hooks, eye patches or parrots. I was tempted by one young fisherman fello’, to go below deck just to spite the ‘Captain’ as he was already planning to buy a bigger boat – sounds like fun but my sea life has expired. I have an invitation to Ascot and plan to win copious amounts of money. The ‘Captain’ will go off sailing and I will play poker till dawn with any fellow I chose……..to feel a manly grasp again……. Brunette x
Have taken to listening to the shipping forecast, the drone is somewhat soothing, reminds me of the ‘Captain’. I hope he fares well. No news for weeks. Maybe he’s been swallowed by a whale!
Brunette Colemen – Chapter Six: Blanche Coleman
The devil hath returned! I recieved a letter from my sister today out of the blue. We have not spoken for years, not since ‘the incident’. SHE is in the Caribbean, what a coincidence, as I also recieved a telegram from the ‘Captain’.
The barstard, what a swine I new something was wrong. My evil little sister has finally done it, tempted my ‘Captain’ away. I curse the day Blanche Coleman came into my life, she is the devil, my younger sister – the natural ash blonde. She basically marries for money! Another man down what am i to do?
B Coleman x
Brunette Colemen – Chapter Seven: Dickie
Oh Dickie, fly me to the moon …. I am devastated, well I ‘was’ devastated of course… but today my neighbour ‘the pilot’ has offered to take me flying – the true gent Dickie Fareweather.
Things are looking up,
Darling Brunette x
Brunette Colemen – Chapter Eight: Darling Hugo
Devastedly lost all my empire through gambling, couldn’t even afford a martini, resorted to budget gin, lost days, weeks but was saved by Jesus.
Oh darlings only joking, I found Hugo Le Remoulade at my friend Joan Hunter-Dunn’s monthly Fondue Party, he is famous for this ‘Shrimp Remoulade’, owns a pleasant chain of ‘bistro’ in and around Dollis Hill.
I do like a good man of breeding, although he has his stubborn habbit’s can’t be tempt away from that blasted Lance Percival Show the presenter is positively shocking, all calypso crooner, a tall thin man with a malleable face and a ridiculous Kenneth Williams-ish line in funny voices, just a failed cabaret act from the late 60′s, although Dick Emery was on the other night, he is a bugger of a man, nearly wet myself laughing.
Jesus loves you,
Miss B x
Am sick with worry, Dickie Fareweather’s plane went missing over some big mountains in Alaska, I do hope he is alright, although I did see him drunkenly packing his parachute in the garden the night before cigar in one hand and large tankard in the other.
