We all know that when two or three jazzers are gathered together there is music. They don’t usually rehearse. They just turn up, get out their instruments, follow the rules and make wonderful sounds.  

So, the marriage of two or more jazzers gathered together in the sight of an audience is a match made in Heaven.

But what happens when two or more jazzers gather together in a real marriage?

Well, obviously that’s bigamy. Or Mormonism.

Okay, let’s stick with two jazzers.   Namely, Mr & Mrs Litton. 

Martin and I first met in 1987. I approached him in a bar. No, it wasn’t like that! He was playing the piano. Quelle Surprise. I thought he was very good and I was looking for a pianist, intending to form a duet in order to get some work.

I didn’t think big. I just loved singing and saw that it went on in bars. At that time there were lots of live gigs all over Town in restaurants, bars and hotels. Heady days. 

That evening I went into a little bijou bar underneath Waterloo Station called the Cafe de Piaf and was surprised to hear beautiful piano sounds in the corner.

I liked the cut of Martin’s gib and devised a plan. Sidling up to him, I whispered seductively in his ear: “I’m a singer. I’m looking for a pianist myself. Would you be interested in rehearsing with me, with a view to getting gigs?

How was I to know that Martin already had an established career in jazz? If you had told me that, I would have asked why, in that case, he was playing cocktail music in a bar under Waterloo Station?

How little I knew of the jazz world. 

So, when he turned to me and said, ‘No thanks. I don’t need to rehearse.’ I was taken aback. I thought he was ‘right up himself’ as we say in the provinces; well, someone says it. I must have heard it somewhere…. 

And I was also, frankly, surprised.

Believe it or not, I was pretty much a babe in those days. I was rather used to men jumping at the chance to spend time alone with me with nothing but a piano between us.

So what happened next? 

Dear Reader, I married him. 

Yeah, we know that. The header photo is a heavy clue. But what happened in between thinking he was ‘right up himself,’ and marrying him? 

You’ve spoiled my ending!

I’m just saying. 

I know you know that, obviously.

And by the way, you’re being weird and talking to yourself again.

I will tell the readers the rest of the story another day but I have to stop now because today is our third wedding anniversary and we’re off to ‘spend time with each other’. 

Wow! Three whole years…and it’s August 6th, the anniversary of Hiroshima. Did no-one think to point that out…? 

Alas, no. 

Tell them about last year’s wedding anniversary. That was a hoot. 

There are many stories to tell and I shall tell them all.

Laters.