ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
Life has been a blur for two local women ever since Harry and Megan said I do.
Mother-of-two Maggie Pearson and her sister Joan Rutherford have been three sheets to the wind for three days.
Both of them have little to no idea what day it is; Joan’s erratic public behaviour has attracted the attention of the neighbours more than once.
However, after their dealer stopped replying to their messages and Maggie’s husband came around for the third time to plead with her to come home, the bender has mercifully ended.
Joan bid farewell to her sister from the couch as she lay there motionlessly, ashing nonchalantly in a half-eaten Pad Thai.
“It’s been real,” she said.
“I think this party would’ve killed Ben Cousins. Are we really out of piss? Jesus wept! Hey! Maggie, come here! Give me a hug!”
Maggie hugged her sister and gave her the rest of her cigarettes, saying her husband won’t let her smoke anymore – shooting him a filthy look as he stood in the doorway twirling car keys.
Joan smiled in gratitude moments before her eyes rolled back in her head and she was off to sleep land.
Opening the door for his wife, Jack Pearson told our reporter that he hadn’t seen his wife in such a state of disrepair since William’s wedding.
Speaking to The Advocate on the front lawn of Joan’s house, Mr Pearson said he enjoyed the peace and quiet at home over the weekend but at her age, staying up for three full days on cheap drugs and white wine probably shaved a year off her life.
“I can’t talk,” he said.
“When the Cowboys won the premiership, the wife and kids didn’t see me for nearly a calendar month. No regrets, though,”
“Well, you know what they say. Marriage is all about compromise. Royal Weddings are like grand finals, I guess.”
More to come.
