This is a true story from Martin Reast, a member of Enderby Creative Writing Group. Perhaps other Journal readers might have a story, embarrassing or otherwise, to share with the readers?

After being together for quite a while, my daughter and her boyfriend announced that they were to marry and that they would like the proceedings to be formal i.e. Top hat and tails for the important men: the groom, best man and the Father of the Bride.

Whilst being very pleased by the news, on a personal level I was apprehensive because a couple of years earlier I was involved in an accident which had left me disabled. I had sustained a head injury which had caused a severe stroke. I was concerned about lots of things: could I walk my daughter down the aisle? Could I make the expected speech without slurring the words too much? Not wanting to spoil their moment, I didn’t voice my concerns. They said that the men should go to a local outfitters’ to organise hiring suits.

About four weeks before the Big Day we were all summoned to the outfitters’ to try on the proposed hire suits. We all went to the shop, frontage onto Granby Street backing on to Town Hall Square. On entering the shop the groom was ushered into a changing room, the best man into another one and I was taken to a room at the rear of the shop. On entering it I found it to be a reasonable size with velvet curtains all around. There were no chairs, just a light and two coat hooks poking through the curtains. I hung up the hire suit on one hook and proceeded to remove my jeans. I managed to take my left leg out but, in trying to remove my right leg, I lost balance and had to use the wall to lean on. I half leaned, half fell, on the curtains lining the walls.

The next thing I knew I was prostrate on the pavement in Town Hall Square with hordes of shoppers slowing down to look at this person lying there with one leg in his jeans, the other with a sock on. I was like an upturned turtle who can’t get up. I just wanted to disappear. I didn’t want to ask for help with my slurred speech as they would then be convinced that I was a drunk.

Eventually, a crowd of youths helped me to my feet.

I will always remember that awful day when I forgot about ‘fire doors’!

Enderby Creative Writing Group meets once a month on the last Saturday morning. Why not come and join us? Phone the library on 0116 3053523. Open Mon to Fri 2-6pm; Saturdays 10am -1pm