Caribbean holiday over, MSB and I began to make our way home to Edinburgh. We were most unsuitably dressed for the journey, decked out in party dresses and ballet pumps. MSB modelled one of her own creations, a gorgeous Quality Street purple satin gown topped with a white fur stole. I was in my pink-piped LBD from Phase Eight, and on my left hand I wore my latest engagement ring upgrade from TPR. This actually comprised two new rings: the first sported a big square emerald, and the second a sapphire and diamond cluster. MSB admired it greatly.
If our clothing was peculiar, the first part of the route was even more so. We set off on foot from Portishead to Tiverton, via Bridgeport, along a perilous mountain range. We realised too late that we should have made enquiries about trains at Portishead railway station. The holiday-makers enjoying themselves at the fairground had distracted us.
The holiday itself had not turned out as expected. For a start, TPR and I were surprised to discover familiar faces at a resort so far from home. Even SC was booked into a suite on the top floor of the same hotel. Then I missed a drinks reception because I misunderstood the directions to the venue at the neighbouring Holiday Inn. (However, given that all the other female guests were attired head to toe in scarlet sequins for this, I really didn’t mind.) Then hotel over-booking meant that TPR and I were forced to admit additional guests into our bedroom on our last night. It was at this point that MSB and her husband D had appeared. In his arms D carried their three year old, a sleepy blond child that – until now – none of us had ever known about.
