“Hello Daisy, my dear,” soothed Giles. “Are you all right?
“I do hate to disappoint you”, he murmured, stroking her neck. “I was looking forward so much to seeing you dressed up for our special day.”
“Mr Cameron, the Prime Minister, seemed to think it would be O.K and after he announced his plans for gay marriage, many couples like us were sure we’d also be allowed to have a ‘real’ marriage.
“But that old sourpuss, Catholic Cardinal Keith O'Brien says the idea is ‘grotesque’ and a ’subversion of a universally accepted human right’. So it seems we can’t go ahead after all.
“What about our rights? In fact, what about the ‘rights’ of the children who have been abused by so-called celibate priests all down the years? Isn’t what they’ve done – and do – also bad?
“I don’t understand what goes on. None of it seems fair. Only today, I heard that Dartmoor ponies stabled near us are going to be given the pill. I wonder who’s got them into trouble? I promise it wasn’t me, my darlin’. You know I’ve only got eyes for you!”
Daisy looked up trustingly with her own huge brown eyes. She liked Giles stroking and nuzzling her.
“Never mind, Giles. It won’t stop us going on as usual. No-one has to know if we don’t tell them.”
“No,” said Giles, soberly removing Daisy’s bells, ribbons and veil. “Tell you what, though, we have got a few minutes before milking. What do you think …?
“Ooh, Giles. You know how to make me feel wanted,” said Daisy. “But I’ve got to tell you a secret. The ponies aren’t the only ones in the family way.”
“Aw, that’s amazing,” said Giles as they lay embracing in the straw. “I wonder who the kids will take after.”
Edward loved cars. But he didn’t go to major rallies or trudge around the annual car shows. He was never impressed with the bikini clad dollies who helped to show off the manufacturers’ wares.
For Edward Smith, the cars were the dolls – right down to their irresistible tail-pipes.
“‘My Spice Girls – ‘Vanilla’, ‘Ginger’ and ‘Cinnamon’ - I can’t get enough of – them,” he told the Washington Observer in an exclusive interview.
“What’s more”, said US-based Edward, who enjoys a rare affliction named mechaphilia”, “I’m so desperate for my Vanilla that I’m going to marry her.”
He added: “When I heard how the U.K. was planning to allow same-sex religious marriage, my horn began to blow – big time.
“Not much longer now, my sweet Beetle,” I told Vanilla. “I’m going to make an honest woman of you and keep you at home where I can watch over you. I don’t want you on skid row with any old Rover.”
But he’s a fine one to talk. Before he settled down with Vanilla, Smith, now aged 61, got to know more strange cars than most of us have slid hot dip-sticks. His favourite memory is his one-night stand with the helicopter from the 1980s TV hit Airwolf. “I have deep, romantic feelings for her. Even now,” he admits.
Mr Smith still hopes that the international clergy will relent and allow anyone to marry anything they want in the sight of God.
“It’s a basic human right”, he later told the famous UK motoring journalist, Jeremy Clarkson. “As soon as it’s allowed, Vanilla and I will race down the aisle like Bluebird. Would you and Richard like to come?
“Perhaps you both have already?” he added impishly.
(Copyright, Natalie Irene Wood – 15 March 2012)