My sister J planned an ambitious itinerary for the visit of our Canadian cousins N and D. I doubted that it were possible to squeeze everything into a single day.
I was proved right in Whitby. It would never be enough to merely see the sights from a car window. J asked the silent driver to park at the sea front where we all got out. It was high tide and I watched the few bathers who were splashing around in the water. When I turned round to say something to the others I discovered that they had all disappeared.
When they eventually returned I made it clear that I was upset. “We just went for a little walk” my sister said. “Yes, without me – as usual”, I responded.
I asked my mother why I was always being left out. “Probably because you’re not very nice to other people” she concluded. I argued that I was exceptionally nice to everyone (except perhaps J, but only from time to time).
Anyway, I had had enough of being unpopular so I took TPR with me across the road to the cinema. Here we spent the rest of the afternoon watching a documentary about South Yorkshire pop bands.