Dream boy returns (Rousse)

It was such a long time since I had seen my old school friend ST (both in real life and in my dreams).

I took the seat next to him and looked down to his left hand: he still sported a wedding ring. Then he talked me through a document on his PC.

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A Daily Mail reader out of place (Rousse)

I felt rather out of place in the huge panelled drawing room stuffed with men in tweed jackets reading broadsheet newspapers, especially when carrying a copy of the Daily Mail.

When I sat down in the dining room it was also obvious that the men thought that I didn’t deserve to be there either. It took some work on my part to convince them that I had every right to my place at the table. After all, I was the one chairing the panel meeting the next day.

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A suspicious highland ‘death’ (Rousse)

Only the trout nosing out to snap at flies broke the flat surface of the water. From my vantage point on the balcony of our highland hideaway the entire scene was of near calm, with the lush green mountains mirrored in the loch.

CT and I had a busy day ahead. In the morning we were going riding, then we needed to return to our lodgings to collect our suitcases and travel to our next holiday destination. Really we should have prioritised our packing, but we left this until later, focussing instead on dressing our best for the horses. CT played the part of a dressage queen complete with black laced cap, while I wore a tiny bright green kilt over my shortest shorts and kept my legs bare as far as my riding boots.

Just before we left we noticed that my sister S had slumped over the kitchen table. She did not respond when we tried to rouse her. I couldn’t find her pulse and for a terrible moment we thought that she was dead. However, there was a weak heartbeat so we left her and set off for our fun day out.

Before heading to the stables we had a lunch date with a bunch of besuited businessmen, including TF. Unfortunately they did not know one another and nobody bothered to initiate introductions, so they ate in silence. Even TPR looked uncomfortable – although later he admitted it was because he had been forced into wearing a suit.

Then a man came to tell me that my sister still hadn’t woken up. He thought that she was probably in a coma. It now dawned on me that we should have taken her into hospital, or at least stayed with her back at the house. If she died and there was an inquest, we would not look good.

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Lost in Hexham (Rousse)

JS and I were my mother’s passengers in the tiny red car. Our route us along the dangerous cliffs of the north east coast of Northumberland, and then west along the A69 towards Hexham.

We considered calling in on KA, but thought it would be rude to do so without making a prior arrangement. We also ran out of time to do so due to huge problems navigating the narrow alleyways of town. It was as if we’d never visited Hexham before in our entire lives.

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A name change to Simon (Rousse)

‘And this is Simon’, I announced, as the others took their seats at the table for a cheese feast.

JG looked a little puzzled. Why had I rechristened him? I had no idea myself!

Nevertheless he went along with his new name, sat down, and tucked into his dinner.

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Celebrity top trumps: Ed Sheeran versus Paul Weller (Rousse)

My online friend TBM came to stay with S, the youngest of her three boys. Our flat had plenty of space, yet they both shared our bedroom. In fact, none of us really appreciated the vast size of our flat until the next day when we went to pick up breakfast from the canteen. Our gilded ballroom was truly immense (and would be a great venue for the dancing at our 30th wedding anniversary celebrations in 2017).

After breakfast TPR and I sat on a rock with a couple of friendly young men, one of whom was humming sweet tunes. Gradually I realised that this was Ed Sheeran. I apologised for not recognising him. I was, however, very excited to be in his company, and rang my sister J to say so. She immediately trumped my celebrity spotting with a texted picture of Paul Weller with her husband in her garden.

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Inadequate research council accommodation and a couple of dead whales (Rousse)

The EPSRC put me up in a reasonable hotel, but my room did not have enough storage space. I would make a request for a corner cupboard and some shelving for my books above the radiator.

In the meantime I popped down to the harbour to see what was happening. I was nearly washed away when the latest boat came in with two enormous dead whales in its wake.

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Forgive, forget, and return to the fold (Rousse)

I kept quiet when XYZ entered the room carrying a tray of home-made cakes. She offered one to each person as if she had never been away. They each happily accepted a cake and carried on their friendly chat.

Everyone gladly welcomed XYZ back to the old familiar friendship set-up. I was delighted that recent events had seemingly been forgiven and forgotten.

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A six-inch, straw-armed, baby (Rousse)

Motherhood was new to me and I was not taking well to it.

I misunderstood the need to be near my baby at all times. I also found it difficult to explain why my baby (a) was only 6 inches tall and (b) sported a plaited string of straw (rather than an arm) from its left armpit. Indeed, I did not think that either of these unusual features were worthy of comment.

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Guests who overstay their welcome (Rousse)

It was a Monday morning and I was desperate for our weekend visitors to leave so that I could get to work.

My plans were thwarted by my sister-in-law SMcC who insisted on cycling to the outskirts of the city.

I followed her with AS in his borrowed silver open-top BMW. Our job was to tempt S back into town via Leith so that she and AS could gathering their belongings and set off home, and I could get to my office.

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