Book · Summer

The best laid plans

Nell: I can’t believe I am sitting in a car with you.

Me: That’s not very kind.

Nell: And we are lost.

Me: We aren’t exactly lost, Nell. I just can’t see James and the others and I don’t have a signal.

Nell: Why did I ever agree to this?

Me: A few things went wrong but it will all be fine.

Nell: How did you forget it was a Bank Holiday weekend?

Me: To be fair we all forgot.

Nell: No caravans available, not even a Mongolian.

Me: Yurt.

Nell: Have you got wind?

Me: No.

Nell: Just tents. Mouldy old tents borrowed from the surfers and still damp from that Barkmaster festival.

Me: We will make it nice and cosy.

Nell: And sleeping bags. Me in a sleeping bag.

Me: Actually I packed your pillow and duvet.

Nell: You did?

Me: And Jim is lending us his double air bed.

Nell: Us?

Me: We are sharing. You often share with me when we go away.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Jim says it’s a lovely spot just near the river so you can swim whenever you like. We’ll have barbecues and sing around the camp fire.

Nell: David didn’t bring his guitar did he?

Me: He did.

Nell: But he didn’t bring The Cat?

Me: He did.

Nell: If I open my handbag and find Gladys or Rita I’m going home.

Me: I’d keep it shut then.

Nell: Unbelievable.

Me: Sorry.

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