The guest house was now on two sites, one managed by the husband and the other by the wife. As a consequence, TPR and I were split up and slept apart.
Draped in a pale blue cashmere jumper lent to me by the wife, I waved goodbye to TPR as he headed off to his quarters.
This was going to be a lonely holiday. However, I was still looking forward to having a go on the newly built kiddies’ steam train that had brought the railway to the Isle of Lewis.
JM changed his name to Robert Foster – for no apparent reason whatsoever.
How we came to be in St Albans, I had no idea, but it was still great to bump into JB and GB there. They had also booked their anniversary meal at the same restaurant as us. Indeed, it looked like our evening was turning into a school reunion when CH (was CC) also turned up. She had barely changed, other than her hair was now dyed red and she insisted that we pronounce her name as if it were Arabic.
While it was nice to chat to my ex-classmates, I had an appointment with my online friend GG somewhere in south London. The problem, however, was that I did not have her address. In fact, I didn’t even know her real name.
When my mother appeared in an ancient Volvo estate I thought she could give me a lift to GG’s house. I jumped in amongst all the luggage and kit for a two-week fishing holiday in the Scottish highlands, squeezing myself onto the back seat next to various members of my family.
Not long after we set off the car’s engine cut out and we were brought to an abrupt halt in the slow lane of the motorway. ‘At least the rescue service will easily spot us’ I said, referring to the bright orange 1970s paintwork of the car. This really did stand out from all the dreary black, silver, and grey vehicles of 2015.
I ate a whole tin of merlins. They were delicious in oil, and much tastier than the pilchards that come in similar packaging.
After years of admiring them in the china cabinet, I took my grandmother’s teacups to work. CI and I enjoyed fine Earl Grey tea from the fine bone china while avoiding XY.
I was also free and easy with some of my other belongings. For example, I gave away my Swatch watch to my old school friend SH on the basis that I dreamt that I should do so.
Aidan Turner met my sister J over a game of Pictionary, and now they were a couple. He was the most beautiful man I had ever met. What is more, the Poldark actor was a mathematical genius. He and TPR would be the best of friends.
Aidan also loved dogs. We were soon introduced to his collie, a very mild-mannered creature that wore a subtle black and white knitted dog jacket. I couldn’t wait for Aidan to be my brother-in-law.
Aidan did lack some skills, however. Notably, he was not so familiar with burglar alarms. One day he left me stranded in the hall of my parents’ house with warning lights flashing everywhere. I had to phone my mother at the dentist to ask her to come home and fix everything.
My mother returned as soon as she could. She was wearing a beautiful pale green sleeveless chiffon dress. Her red hair was high on her head late 1960s-style, and she wore fashionable glasses from the same era. She really looked fabulous. We asked why she was all dressed up like this. She explained that she had made an effort getting ready that morning because she fancied her dentist.
Then a message came through from my other sister. At last she had found out why X had not been on Facebook for so long. She and her partner Y had made a death pact. Their families had recently been informed that the bodies could be found in Solihull.
I was furious with TPR. Taking advantage of his ‘Hugh Grant with muscles’ good looks, he was breaking hearts left, right and centre (including my own). He also thought nothing of mutilating his torso with a random set of inky tattoos.
TPR’s muscles were a source of fascination for the slim, dark teenager on the boat. I left them sitting together on the bench on the deck as we came into dock in Newcastle.
When we arrived TPR looked a bit sheepish. Did he have something to confess? Apparently not on this occasion, but there was something that had been on his mind for some time. He reminded me of the evening in Hull when he made T shirts for the performers at two comedy and music gigs that we attended. He’d slept with S that night. C knew, but didn’t seem to mind.
Now I understood why TPR was spending so much time with S these days.
Since her operation AP had gone from strength to strength. Her singing career was really taking off these days, especially now that she had secured the prime-time Saturday night slot on BBC1.
My boss pass me a typed sheet of paper. This stated that I had been granted a sabbatical between 29th April and 31st August 2015. It was already the end of June. What use was this to me?
Then the students started hassling me. One told me that although he had missed nearly all the classes, he would still take the exam. He was confident that he would pass the module because he had downloaded all the PowerPoint presentations and JB had offered to go through the material with him on a flight to the US. I had my doubts that this strategy would work.
Feeling fed up, I bit into my Blackberry as I took off along Edinburgh’s Princes Street. It was surprisingly delicious: a combination of chocolate and caramel.
Dreamaticus 