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Dinner in the Sky
Dinner in the Sky
Dinner in the Sky
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Dinner in the Sky

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Doreen Kerry's first book, Pathway to the Moon, was a 'voyage of discovery' into the new life she found herself living after the tragic early death of her husband. Her second, When Angels Fall, featured an imaginary court hearing in which she staged an imaginary trial for those whose negligence she felt had contributed to his death. In this volume, she indulges in another entertaining flight of fancy, with imaginary visits to restaurants frequented by stars from the golden era of Hollywood. "My husband had died, but my humour had remained, and it became my literary medicine throughout."

LanguageEnglish
PublisherMereo Books
Release dateJul 18, 2018
ISBN9780463605240
Dinner in the Sky

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    Book preview

    Dinner in the Sky - Doreen Kerry

    Copyright © 2018 by Doreen Kerry

    Doreen Kerry has asserted her right under the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

    Published by Mereo

    Mereo is an imprint of Memoirs Publishing

    25 Market Place, Cirencester, Gloucestershire GL7 2NX, England

    Tel: 01285 640485, Email: info@mereobooks.com

    www.memoirspublishing.com or www.mereobooks.com

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    A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

    This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover, other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

    ISBN:

    MENU

    Preface

    First Course: In the beginning

    Second Course: Fountain of Truth

    Third Course: Come in, the water’s warm

    Fourth Course: Valentino

    Fifth Course: A mountain of popcorn

    Sixth Course: José gets it right

    Seventh Course: The greasy rainbow

    Eight Course: Saved by the bell

    Ninth Course: A sweet and sour song

    Tenth Course: The Golden Egg

    Eleventh Course: For a few coppers more

    Twelfth Course: Budget Airways

    Thirteenth Course: A Bridge Too Far

    Fourteenth Course: By hook or by crook

    Fifteenth Course: The place to be

    Sixteenth Course: The See Food Diet

    Seventeenth Course: Putting on the Ritz

    Eighteenth Course: A Wicked way with words

    Nineteenth Course: Mum to the wise

    Twentieth Course: Bullets of beef

    PREFACE

    In my first book, Pathway to the Moon (2017), I set forth to take my readers on a voyage of discovery which opened my eyes to the fact that my life was going to be inherently different from that time on. I can now see the suffering and despair depicted in the last chapter as a core part of the universal experience of grieving, not just of my own. My husband had died, but my humour had remained, and it became my literary medicine throughout.

    In my follow-up book, When Angels Fall (2018), I sought to reel my audience back by capitalising on the tensions that had befallen me in the years that followed when I was trying to seek justice for my loss after my initial disbelief turned into anger. Actually naming those on the receiving end of my barbs could have got me into trouble, so I instead I targeted those who represent a particular category of people through fictitious characterisation, as well as targeting the symptoms which had attracted my ire in the first place. There were many attempts at humour along the way, but my aim was to incorporate a shared truth – that justice, it seems, is reserved for the privileged few.

    In nursing, ‘seamless’ care is about making the transition from one care facility to another as smooth as possible, otherwise patients face a significant risk of something going wrong. This did not happen in my husband’s case, as all the move from the intensive care unit to a bog standard ward achieved was to facilitate his unexpected and untimely death.

    As Hubby is the lead character in my memoirs, my aim is to pump out seamless humour that carries more than a thread of truth but that can strike a chord with my audience. Conflict has been my greatest source of comedy to date.

    ‘Wishful thoughts without action are wasteful thoughts’, I once heard said. Although fantasy is fun, in this, my latest in a proposed series of books, I have not thought too much about what I would have done if I had had a magic wand. Instead I have tried to remain true to the voices and personalities of my characters through reminiscence, in a bid to find some contentment, even though the important issue of achieving justice is still unresolved.

    Indulge me if you will by joining me once more in what I hope will be an exciting adventure playground, where my editor and publisher have given me the chance to flourish as both a person and a writer and given me the opportunity to put my thoughts into action.

    FIRST COURSE

    IN THE BEGINNING

    I feel Hubby’s presence every day in my heart, even though he is out of my life. The love that my hubby and I had for each other was unconditional, so although he is dead I shall love him just the same, only from afar.

    OK, so leave aside his offer to buy me a microwave so soon after he had pointed out a ‘cool’ black and white four-inch portable TV which he tried hard to convince me would be ‘great to take fishing.’ Some might consider it a conditional request. I prefer to remember it as friendly negotiation.

    Whilst I have always confessed to being a hopeless romantic, I’m afraid to say that sometimes love does mean having to say you’re sorry. As a schoolgirl however, having watched ‘Love Story’ at the cinema and then on TV several times after that, those words, spoken first to Oliver Barrett IV and then by Oliver Barrett III (as son and father respectively whilst playing on the words of a dying woman) I had no need to challenge.

    ‘What can you say about a 25-year-old girl who died?’ asked Oliver IV. ‘That she was beautiful and brilliant? That she loved Mozart and Bach, the Beatles and me?’

    ‘What can you say about a 54-year-old man who died?’ say I. ‘That he was handsome and clever? That he loved Elvis, Buddy Holly, Roy Orbison and me?’ Or has my conversational insanity kicked in already as I replace the above with drink, fags, football and me, but not necessarily in that order. It somehow doesn’t have the same kind of romantic ring to it, does it?

    If you are new to my writing, then you should know that I cannot pass up an opportunity to inject a dash of humour into it, to add a splash of colour, if only to complement the dark patches of my life since Hubby died, and if you have met me before you will have come to recognise this.

    I mean, how hard is it really to utter those two little words ‘I’m sorry’? Hubby was stubborn when it came to apologising, but his way of making amends was to say nothing, cook me a nice meal and pour me a glass of wine. It’s what happens when you’ve been married as long as we had; you get to learn each other’s funny traits. You get to know what the gestures mean, even if you don’t always get to hear those magic words.

    Life is full of clichés, and don’t you just hate them at times?

    My motivation for writing the first time around was not the desire to have a good whine but to reflect on the good times in my life when I used my warped sense of humour as an outlet for the anger and frustration I felt as my life took a sudden turn for the worse. However, it gave me the excuse I needed to be allowed to disguise verbal attacks on those who had wronged Hubby and me as entertainment without the risk of getting sued.

    Equally my second book was not motivated by a desire to exact revenge on those who I felt had failed in their duties to ‘serve and protect’. As before, writing gave me the platform to be able to release tension through the use of unexpected punchlines.

    So let’s just say that in literary terms I have been there and done that, even if I must remain optimistic that one day I should get to wear the victory T-shirt. Instead, in writing my memoirs, I was driven by a desire to authenticate my own existence so that after I am long gone the major threads in what I have written will, I hope, portray the gratitude I have felt towards all those who have touched my life in one way or another.

    SECOND COURSE

    THE FOUNTAIN OF TRUTH

    I have made it no secret in the past that I had always wanted to write, ever since I watched Millie Perkins in her portrayal of Anne Frank, who, along with her

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