THE JOURNEY.

What three little words do you never want to hear come out of your husbands mouth ? I’m sure wives partners the world over have a myriad of three somes, but mine are “It’s six thirty” 6.30 ? is he insane ?? I know I have an interview this morning , but that's not until 9.15. He is driving because after the interview we are heading straight to East Midlands airport to catch a flight to Fuerteventura at 2pm. It was probably madness to attend an interview then, especially as I cannot even remember applying for the job. But when a cheery voice phones you and invites you for an interview at a prestigious stately home, its too good to turn down. I was still pondering on the extreme hour of the wake up call, after all, the cases were packed, my outfit was ironed and my hair was washed, when he ushers me into the car. My husband is what you call ‘a morning person’, while I am definitely am not. I am catching my second wind at 10pm ready to stay up till gone 1 am just as he is heading upstairs to bed.

We sped off to the stately pile and arrive half an hour early. I ask the security guard behind the huge black and gold painted wrought iron gates for Ellie Hodge. He gave me a long look and said in his Derbyshire burr

,“ She wont be here while 9 o’clock, park up the top and come back later”"ok” I say and instruct the husband accordingly.

I search for the ladies next to the security lodge to do a final last check and primp. I found two burly workmen, with steel toe cap boots and high vis jackets tied around their waists leaning against the sinks talking to a woman dressed in blue pants and top, in the area marked ‘Ladies’

“Errr is this the ladies ?” I enquire,

“Yes love,” they smile” we are having a meeting” with out budging an inch. I squeeze past them to continue with my ablutions shaking my head. Returning to the gates I was signed in and asked to wait outside. The scaffolding along one side of the huge house answered the question of why there were workmen all over the place.

Waiting outside in the stiff breeze I looked out through the heavy metal gate to see ancient lawns and great trees laid by Capability Brown. Everything about this place was awe inspiring. I took the opportunity to snap a few pics as I was going to challenge my self to reproduce the ornate gate on paper, or even canvas. I thought I would add a small barefoot urchin, begging in the corner and call the piece Tthe haves and the have nots’ My thoughts were broken by the sight of a smart, slim white haired woman striding towards me, hand outstretched in a welcome hand shake. Ellie introduced her self smiling warmly, she obviously had this welcoming stuff down pat.

I followed her up a stone spiral stair case to a small office at the top of the stairs, where I proceeded to engage in the most unprepared interview in history. Second only to the one given by thingy in trainspotting. Mine wasn’t quite that bad , as I had not taken speed .

Ellie was encouraging, and helpful, and the other younger woman was trying hard, but I could tell she was struggling with the fact she couldn’t quite pigeon hole me. My accent was something she hadn’t heard before. Definitely not Derbyshire , but with a twang of Welsh underwritten by a south London flatness. I saw her nostrils flare slightly as she tried to figure me out. This amused me, as she was so easy to place. Definitely from a decent girls school, she had managed to ‘unclip’ her accent, but being of the ‘privileged’ classes she was not used to not being able to slot everyone in their convenient cubby hole. I was making her feel uneasy. Shall I put on my posh accent to confuse her further? Nahhh ….stop mucking about and concentrate on answering their formulaic questions, What does the word team work mean to you? have you experience of operating an electronic till ? What woud you do if a visitor started venting right up in your face? It transpires they wanted someone to work in the car park. Oh joy, mine was un contained !

The interview was over in half an hour, we had time to kill and decided to have brunch on the way to the airport, so made our way to Matlock to look for a place to eat. The Crown won us over with its cream cheese and salmon bagel , eggs Benedict and limitless teas and coffees. And cheap too ! The young women in the corner by the window commented to her companions, “this is cheaper than putting the kettle on at home”.

As I sliced off the gone off edge of my smoked salmon to put it at the side of my plate, well what did I expect for 3.99 ? the 3 women were replaced by two fresh faced young men and a woman. Joined almost immediately by another young woman, “so did you go swimming in the river? “ she asked excitedly The long wet hair of her breakfast companion testified they had. “This is much nicer than having coffee at home with those bloomin builders walking in and out and all that banging and drilling” they mused.’

”How the other half live” I thought-.

After two mugs of tea we made our way back to the carpark well within our alloted time. “Dam! I forgot to pee, all that tea, never mind I will go when we get to the airport its only 45 minutes away, think I can hold on til then” The husband nodded.

As we reverse the car out my husband espies a smal plastic yellow and black packet on the windscreen.” What the hell is that “ he exclaims?

“Don’t panic!” I say “ its probably only an advert.”

I was quite confident because we were within out time, but no, half an hour after we left we had been issued with a £50 penalty notice.

” But we paid !” cried my husband getting even more irate

“Oh no did you place the ticket up side down ? “ I look at him with an accusing glare.

“What ?” He shouted angrily” they can’t do you for that can they ? Bloody daylight robbing bastards.” He went on, the air rapidly turning blue as I quickly take a pic on my phone of the ticket and notice to send off in appeal for later.

“Not to worry “”I say cheerily, trying to lighten the mood,” we are off to sunny Correlejo, the wine the food the sunshine imagine it !” He loves the warmth of the sun and he smiles, 40 minutes later the expletives are back. “I’ve missed the turn off again, where’s the sign for the airport?” its nowhere to be seen after road works last year. 12 miles in the wrong direction, my bladder reminds me I need to pee. “don’t worry there is a sign on the other side of the road”. 24 miles later “ I think this is it,” he says , then “where is the bloody sign, bloody idiots, oh no this is not it “ Turning off again he wails, “now I am completely lost”.

I also wail, for different reasons. Suddenly I have a lightbulb moment and press google in my phone. Its says’ I’m listening.’ “I want to get to Nottingham airport!” I wail into my phone. A calm female voice instructs “ go around the roundabout and turn left onto the A6. “ Husband smiles, relieved, and does as he is instructed. A few miles along the A6 and two villages and 4 very uncomfortable speed bumps later “We are in Loughborough” he announces, proud of his geographic memory. “ I don’t flippin care where we are, I am going to wee in your car if you don’t hurry up! Why are you going so slowly we are going to miss our flight!” urgent pressing and imminent embarrassment have robbed me of my sense of humour. Husband is not much better and an argument proceeds about me never staying with in the speed limit and him saying he always does !!! The argument ends with me shouting ”Just put your bloody foot down will you , you moron!” More villages, and speed bumps later, the husband is getting even more rattled, time is ticking away. "That sat nav is having a laugh” he exclaims . “How can it be having a laugh? Its a talking map, its a machine!” I shout back.
“Can you see any planes in the air? Oh I’ve had enough of this, I’m going to ask this guy,”
He pulls into a lay by and asks a lorry driver who assures us, yes, just keep along the A6 and u will get there. Another two villages and half an hour later we can see a control tower husband and I, and my bladder, breath a sigh of relief.

We pull up to the barrier at the long stay 1, nothing happens. Inching forward slightly, still nothing. Pressing the buzzer, husband explains our dilemma into the small white metal box. “number plate” a voice intones and then “ No sorry sir, there is no number plate recognition it says”, she refuses to let the barrier up.

“But I‘ve paid and everything, I ve got receipts”

“Name?” she continues,

“Mines”

’’No sorry sir no recognition of name” By this time we have about an hour to get on the plane,

“Look,” he yells at the box ‘”we are going to miss our flight if you don’t hurry up!”

“Did you not leave at least two hours time sir,? You will have to get on a bus to the airport you know”-That is the point the voice in the box got the full blast of an irate Glaswegian and an extremely frustrated and bladder bruised Welsh woman, neither of whom you would want to meet down a dark alley on a Saturday night.

I m not quite sure what we screamed, just that we both blew our tops simultaneously, but all of a sudden the barrier rose silently and we drove through.

“Look! look !ahead is some grass, stop I’ll jump out “

I hurtle towards the grass and coupy down behind the bus stop ,in broad daylight in full view of an industrial park, I just knew if I didn’t pee at that point, I was going to die. Husband arrives as does the same thing, only standing up, just as a Land rover goes past- “did he see your willy?” I enquire, “I don’t care if he did !” he says, “well no but you could get arrested you know “

At this juncture, nother couple arrive at the bus stop  and we exchange pleasantries, only to find they are on our flight and had just gone through the same rigmarole as us. “ We’ve got an hour, should be OK” says the man looking into the distance for the bus. His partner was channelling the Kath Moon, from Eastenders, look, although by her mediterranean accent, her tan was real. Glossy lips, Jackie O sunglasses and dyed black hair, a black mini dress , a leopard skin coat with an ocelot over jacket was animal print overload. Small suede high heeled ankle boots complete with fringes showed off her toned legs. When the bus came, she sat down and the man began stroking her legs. He leaned over and whispered, “Mmmm your boots are very stylish” he couldn’t have noticed the cuffed sides or the stain on the suede of her left foot. Or may be he did, but he was going for the long foreplay technique- which begins as soon as you first see you love complimenting and caressing at every given moment , building to a final juicy crescendo, hours later.

Disrobing at the security checkout showed just how tight and short her black dress was. I noticed she had very small hand luggage but thought, ungraciously, ‘a handful of bikinis, perhaps a dildo and some handcuffs don’t take up all that much room do they?’

We raced through security and were joined by a few other late stragglers, refugees of the A6. Tired, frustrated and relieved all at the same time, anxiously looking at their watches, the strain showing in their faces. Their smaller children were jumping around, like jumping beans having spent too much time travelling already, not a good start to anyones holiday.

The rain whipped up as we made our way to gate 18 at the very end of the airport and hammered down upon us as we clambered up the steps of the plane. We gratefully sunk into our seats. Just think of the sun sea and sangria I thought to my self.

Everyone was boarded swiftly and then it began, the conversation, for want of a better word, a monologue might be a better one, between a young woman and her travelling companions whom she introduced herself post haste. It began, she hadn’t been abroad for over a year, as if that was unusual, as she had a baby 6 months ago and had left her at home

, “ yes just me and the girls, well I say girls “ tiny giggle, “ Thirty year olds, on a hen weekend. In a villa right in the middle of nowhere, but its got a pool! “

“There is my friend “ she pointed out, without being asked “ down the end of the plane with the white cat ears on. My partner is also going on the stag at the same time, well we thought lets go for it, so here we are. “

Tired of her incessant banalities I rammed my earplugs into my ears. Horror of of horrors I could still hear her ! She rabbited on for the whole of the 4 hour flight. Only pausing slightly to order a “white wine please” and then another hour later,” another white wine please.” My husband had the luxury of taking his hearing aids off, lucky him ! The woman is on an economy flight and thinks nothing of spending 14 euros on two glasses of wine,-. And I thought I was a lush !!! Just before landing she confided to her new friends she was part of a specialist medical team that covered the whole of Nottinghamshire. She must be good with her hands as there wasn’t any evidence of any intellectual capabilities I thought cruelly. I sighed, that’s not like you Elaine, but at it can’t get any worse, we are here now, we had sun sand and sangria to look forward too. Prolonging the disembark all passengers were made to wait for the airport to bring the steps to the plane. Oh please let this journey end and I can start my holiday in the sun I pray silently. Bending to look out of the window, I noticed it was raining.