The statement was so matter of fact, it's significance didn't really register at first.
One minute we were chatting about rescue dogs and the next the old guy had dropped in his grenade without thinking that it was in no way strange.
But it was.
At the beach, I met up with a chatty old guy with a strong Lancashire accent who did the usual " you've got your hands full there" comment. We embarked on a meandering conversation about dogs after which he shared the fact that he had always wanted a dog as a boy. One day, he told me a friend of his found a stray small whippet cross and the two boys took it home
" My Father was a hard man, when in drink" the old man said almost in passing " He strangled it in front of us " I stopped short , unsure if I had heard what the man had said , but I knew I had.
But the man had already moved on to make a fuss of Meg who was tap dancing on the concrete Promenade.
But he didn't hold my gaze for a moment.
As I walked back to the car, all I could think of was the Philip Larkin Poem " This Be The Verse"
This Be The Verse
They fuck you up, your mum and Dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself!
A sunny day for such a sad confession
