When it’s best to be heard and not seen

YOu WhAT?’ I queried. ‘We both need hearing aids,’ she barked. ‘I don’t,’ I replied, ‘if you didn’t mutter, I’d hear you OK.’ ‘Well I’m going for a hearing test,’ she told me in a tone that brooked no argument. That was a couple of months ago. yesterday she arrived home with two hearing aids. ‘how do they look?’ she asked. With the things pushing her ears far out, I thought she looked like part of the fylingdales array, that early warning radar in yorkshire. ‘I can hardly see ’em,’ I lied. She preened and gave a twirl ‘and from the back?’ she asked. Like a pair of dangling dustbins was what I thought, but faking astonishment said: ‘Wow, you’d hardly notice they were there with your lovely hair hiding them.’ But she smelled insincerity. ‘Is that the truth or are you trying to make me feel good?’ she asked suspiciously. ‘Well darling, you have a hairdresser’s appointment soon,’ I told her. ‘I’m sure she can arrange your tresses to hide them completely.’ I metaphorically patted myself on the back for this masterly stroke of diplomacy. ‘yes, I think your hearing aids are great dear.’ ‘So you’ll now be getting your self some, too?’ ‘Ah, well,’ I retreated, ‘I don’t need ’em yet. And besides, men of my age don’t have enough hair to hide them.’ ‘Since when were you particular about your appearance?’ she sneered. ‘I haven’t noticed women throwing themselves at you recently.’ I feigned hurt feelings and turned away. That evening she was in the living room watching TV. I decided to join her, and that’s when the trouble started. I turned the volume up. She turned it down again. ‘What setting have you got the sound on?’ I asked testily ‘I can’t hear a damned thing.’ ‘Thirty-four’ she said ‘that should be quite loud enough.’ ‘forty-six is our usual,’ I grumbled, turning it up. ‘It’s booming! I told you, you need hearing aids,’ she snapped. next morning as we dressed she put one aid in and, reaching for her other, knocked it to the floor. ‘don’t move,’ she commanded. I looked down but couldn’t see it. ‘It must be here somewhere,’ I said, and then I felt rather than heard the ominous crunch as my foot found it. The silence was deafening. So to appease the goddess of household tranquillity, I booked an appointment for a hearing test.

J. a. Milligan, Oldham.