Mother Knows Best

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His mother warned Don about women like her. But let’s face it, she warned him about just about every woman he’d ever got close to and then again when did Don ever listen to his mother.  According to Don’s mother women were all after one of two things, either his money or his sperm and the worst of them were after both.  Sometimes it was hard to believe Don’s mum was female so mistrusting was she of women’s ulterior motives.

But Izzie was different, she didn’t need Don’s money, she had plenty of her own, and she wasn’t remotely interested in his sperm, far from it, she always supplied the condoms.  No, Izzie was something else; Izzie was exciting, sexy, dangerous. Yes, Izzie was danger. Izzie was the kind of girl who when you went out boozing with her, you took your passport, because you never quite knew where you’d end up.  She was a breath of fresh air and exactly what Don needed after his latest messy break up.

In contrast to Izzie, everything else seemed grim. Glum faces stared into the middle distance where grey skies hung over the gloomy town. Don and Izzie sat on the town square and watched miserable people go about their miserable lives in miserable weather. It could have been a seaside down that they forgot to close down, had it been anywhere near the sea. Izzie had a baseball-sized stone in her hand and threw in the air and caught it, time and time again. They watched political activists bustled around, leafleting supporters and avoiding opponents, making sure they were lining up sympathetic faces for when the big wigs arrived.  Red and blue, orange and green, even the colours of the parties seemed faded, the arguments jaded.

Then the big, bruising bus came around the corner like an episode of Top Gear with added testosterone. Big, brash and bold, the battle bus barged its way down the narrow high street. It was an impressive sight. The doors whooshed open, Don half expected an alien to creep out, but instead the prime minister stepped on to the pavement, his fake smile on his face and a hand held out to shake.

Izzie stood up, took two steps forward and shouted. The sentence brought some much needed colour to the grey day, mostly blue. She was basically inviting the PM to go away. A minder moved towards Izzie intent on shutting her up, but she would not be silenced. She hurled some more abuse before hurling the stone she’d been playing with. Who said girls can’t throw? It was a perfect shot, hitting the PM right between the eyes. Don watched in horror as the politician crumpled onto the pavement and minders rushed to his aid.

Within 10 seconds secret service men had Don in a headlock and Izzie face down on the pavement being searched for more weapons. To Don’s amazement they produced another stone and a knife. What on earth had she been planning?

After 36 hours in a detention centre, including 12 hours of non-stop questioning, the police finally decided that Don knew nothing about Izzie’s plans and let him go.

His mother met Don at the police station with a I told you so look on her face and he swore to himself that he would always listen to his mum in future.