It was three o'clock in the morning, granny was lying on top of me, she put part of herself in my mouth. “Johnnie, I've got some things to tell you. Are you listening?”
“It's getting better, better all the time. I mean you and me. Maybe not every day, but every few days I feel so much better being with you. It's really good. How do you do it, Johnnie?”
“I've started a course at Adult Education, two mornings a week doing cookery. I want to cook some nice things for you, Johnnie. I hope you will like that. Oh, and Olive is doing a course in Other Healing, I think that means alternative medicine. You know, homoeopathy, hypnosis and hysteria.”
“Yes, it's getting better, sleeping on top of you is real good, I like it.”
The phone rings, “Help me, Johnnie! It's Olive. She's trying to hypnotise me. I know that you told me not to...”
“Hang on, granny! I'll be there as quick as I can.”
Olive was slowly rotating in the middle of her living room. “You are sleepy. You are going to sleep. You are asleep. You will never speak to Johnnie again. You are sleepy. You are going to sleep. You are asleep. You will never speak to Johnnie...”
“She's been standing there and turning in circles for the last hour. What can we do with her, Johnnie? It's so embarrassing.”
“Er, no idea, granny.”
There was a small explosion, a puff of smoke and there was George, Olive's husband. “We are going to Outer Mongolia.” The north wall of living room fell down, George and Olive mounted their horses and rode across the steppes in the direction of the full moon.
A week later granny got a picture postcard from Ulan Bator, George and Olive were having fun, they were yurting all over Mongolia.
A week later saw granny and I looking at the pictures and films of yurts all over Asia. “George and I have decided to go to the moon for our next holiday.”
“Oh, you've gotta a big rocket in the garden.” I joked.
“No?” said Olive, rather puzzled. “We have a lunar bicycle, but we have to wear scarves as it is cold on the moon.”
They looked odd riding away on their lunar tandem, especially George with a headscarf.
A week later granny got a picture postcard:
GREETINGS FROM BAGSHOT THE MOON!
It looked more like Bagshot than the moon and the weightlessness was not working because the Windlesham had been turned off.
It was three o'clock in the morning, granny was lying on top of me. “It's OK! It's OK, Johnnie! It was just a bad dream. There is no Bagshot. Johnnie, it's all right now. I'm here, granny's here right on top of you.”