The Life of Henry Fuckit
2 Wages of sin
From the moment Mr O'Riley's plebeian Irish cock had entered into her patrician English sanctum a sequence of events had followed one upon the other, driving the couple headlong towards disaster. The maculate conception of Henry had come as an appalling shock. Shame and Disgrace were the only attendants at the hasty marriage in the registry office. Then the cruel penance, ostracism. He should never have agreed to the humiliating strategy of taking her off to polite obscurity in the Colonies. Her delicate mind soon took flight from reality and she had grown increasingly preoccupied with her visions and voices. In his search for help he had chanced upon Ingachini and had ensconced her there before hurrying back to England. He would force a showdown with her family. Somehow he would break their frigid resolve and persuade them to take her back into their genteel world of privilege. But he was never to make it beyond that watery halfway point.
The tragical history of Henry's parents was brought to conclusion with his mother's demise when he was but three days old. It happened like this: On the second evening after the birth she attempted to climb up onto the roof in the hope of catching a glimpse of the white cliffs of Dover. After all, it was a very clear night and the moon had only just begun to wane. Before she could be rescued she had slipped and done herself an internal injury that seemed minor but resulted in a massive post partum haemorrhage. Twelve hours later she lay stretched out on her bed, her schoolgirl complexion pale and livid, her lips a ghoulish shade of blue, and her lovely grey eyes fixed upon the sight that had eluded her up on the rooftop.
Contact Us | Terms & Conditions