The likable rogue

Still my poor love is in agony, if I could take the pain away from him, I would in an instant, what a horrible thing to happen. To think this time last week we were giggling and joking because I had to help him get out of bed, I really thought the pain would go away by now. It seems to be a very common problem though, one person I know just sat up quickly in bed one day and pulled a muscle and she couldn't move for two weeks.
Our gig is looming ever closer now, I feel more excited than anything, the only thing I need to prepare now is what I'm going to wear and to be honest, I'm a bit stuck for ideas, I'm sure I will think of something, I need a day off to go trawling round the shops.
My Mum is going off to Cape Town and leaving her gardener to look after the house. He is as ancient as the trees and his antics have amused me for years, I don't know how my Mum puts up with him, I think she feels sorry for him. He lives on the property, doesn't do a stroke of work and she still pays him. He is a rogue because he even goes and works for another lady down the road, and every weekend he goes off and gets blinding drunk and comes back and pesters my Mum for even more money. I suppose he can be quite endearing though, when the bombs went off in London he was working on the other side of town at the time and he walked all the way to my Mum's house to find out if we were OK. A likable rogue, that's what he is. It's a good job the neighbours are going to keep an eye on everything.