Until The Fat Lady Sings

Her Pitman’s Shorthand Certificate

Was the passport out of Smalltown

And the master key through

Myriad office doors and hotel bedrooms -

A long life of loyal service.

Her title was not just Miss,

It was ‘The Indispensable Miss…’

The Most Efficient Miss…’ or her favourite

‘The One Who Keeps Us All In Line …’

Could she have married?

Perhaps, the Greek shipping magnate,

The famous surgeon or the

Over-suave Permanent Secretary,

They did all promise - Just forgot to divorce their wives.

And being a P.A. was much less complicated.

She relished the trade shows

And the glamorous receptions.

She left no ‘i ’ undotted or ‘t’ uncrossed

In any of her arrangements -

Perfectly petite, yet worth her weight in gold.

She made the most of the lavish parties

And whatever followed the last dance …

She was of course the soul of discretion.

Everything was carefully mastered

From comptometers to computers in the office,

Quickstep to the Viennese Waltz in the evenings,

Small talk to sensitive handling, in the small hours,

It was all in a days work

And she worked hard to stay ahead.

Now it all seems just like yesterday …

Back again in Smalltown

The mirror in her room shades-in

The recent missing years,

The tired eyes and seen-it-all stare.

The indispensable person,

Finally dispensed with.

If she was starting out today

It would all be so different!

But enough of reflections.

She pours another large glass of brandy

And reaches for the sleeping pills.

Montserrat Caballe is singing

On the radio.

She met her once you know?

At a party in Barcelona...