I rushed out of the apartment the other day and slammed the door behind me. I had a feeling that I’d forgotten something - but what? I’d been to the loo; I had a clean handkerchief.
It was a lovely day, although a bit draughtier than I had supposed and I wandered round the corner to the square outside the church. I hung out there for a little while, drinking in the atmosphere. There were a couple of old ladies sitting on a bench who kept pointing at me and giggling, I thought it was probably my obvious Englishness and rugged good looks. I waved to them and they pretended not to notice, whispering to each other.
I went into the small shop down the hill to pick up a couple of custard tarts to have with our afternoon tea.
Inside were two Canadian ladies doing a spot of shopping [there are quite of lot of people from Canada here, something to do with the harsh winters over there – thank heavens I’m British]. As they passed me, one of them stopped
in her tracks with her eyes lowered.
“That reminds me Sally, I must get some bananas and a couple of kiwis”.
I made my purchases and went back towards the apartment. I was definitely feeling cold – chilled to the bone in fact.
As I got to the front door and put my hand in my trouser pocket I realised what I had forgotten to do. I’d forgotten to take the key!
I had to ring the bell and disturb the terrible Goddess from her reclining – she was jolly cross and I don’t blame her.
[Tiggz, my elder son, is 41 today!! Happy birthday!!! – I know, I don’t look old enough – I’m very well preserved – ‘pickled’ if you will]
