It’s amazing where he bought them. He’s sent them to me for years. I often saw them when I lived in England. You could always find picture-postcards in the sea-side shops. Some of them were very rude too … mostly of ladies with excessively buxom breasts and bottoms, captioned appropriately. A New Zealander collected dozens to take back home. He’d never seen anything like them before.
When I got married he sent a postcard of a young couple going upstairs in a hotel, beneath which was the caption We’re just going to get our things together! The Best Man read it out at the reception and passed the card round all the guests. He didn’t seem to object to being named as the sender.
Then when I was in hospital, instead of grapes I got a postcard showing a nurse at the bedside of a very sick man, with a rather large lump somewhere in the middle of the blankets, captioned You’re still holding your own then?
At Christmas, too, he managed to find the most inappropriate messages. There was one with a couple in bed – the caption said Oh Joseph! That was immaculate. Another was four Kings bearing gifts, with the caption Have a four king good Christmas. I always secrete them in a drawer. I was used to his humour but wouldn’t want them on display.
I’ll miss it this year. I just had a card from his daughter proclaiming his death. There’s nothing funny about that.