That Reminded Me

I mentioned yesterday that back in the early 1980s I knitted my boyfriend-at-the-time a sleeveless fair-isle pullover. 

He was quite satisfied with it, so much so he dropped heavy hints about wanting a Dennis The Menace style striped jumper. So I looked at knitting patterns and worked out how it could be done, my flatmate (the Squireen) ordered the yarn for me and I set to.

Whilst I was working on the garment the boyfriend-at-the-time remarked, apropos of nothing, “I could imagine being married, but not to someone like you.”

The remark was unfair on a number of counts, mainly because marriage had never been on my lips, mind or agenda.

It was the “someone like” that stung.

"To you" would have been bad enough but "someone like" reduced me to a member of a whole category of unworthy women.

And, of course, he was "only being honest"; a statement which followed every critical remark.

Not wholly surprisingly the relationship was finished before the garment.

In The Ship Inn one night, with the Squireen (we were flatmates), I wondered aloud what I could do with the jumper.   

I had no intention of ever wearing it.

One of the Sallyport Sword Dancers piped up “I’ll buy it off you.”

I had no idea what to charge so we agreed the Squireen would come up with a fair price.

Then there was the problem of transporting it to the pub.

This was the time before supermarkets started giving away free carrier bags, and yarn was a lot cheaper.

It was summer and quite warm so, the next time we went down The Ship on a Sallyport Sword practice night, I wore the jumper.

As soon as he saw me the Sallyport Sword Dancer took a £10 note out of his wallet and handed it to me.

I removed the jumper and gave it to him.

At which a loud male voice called out from beyond the bar.

“I’ll give you twenty quid for the tee-shirt!”