A hire car named 'der doop'!
"What colour is the car? I hope it's blue."
A text. 'Blue-ish.'
Silver-blue.
"Does the car key thing say 'der-doop'?"
No.
"Der doop!" I have to say it. And I have to say it again, because the magic's always better the next time around.
Amy, "Chessington!"
Jo "Legoland?"
Steve, "Safari park?"
Amy, "Chessington! Chessington! Chessington! Chessington! Chessington!"
Chessington. Rain.
"Bubbleworks is best!" A boat ride. Silvery fountains. Giant plastic ducks.
Rain.
"Who can ride the rollercoaster without screaming!"
Not me. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Rain, rain, rain.
"Der doop."
Home. Wet clothes off. Hot tea. Warm hugs.
I pack my clothes in Steve's orange suitcase.
"Der doop!"
We don't need maps. If we get lost we'll laugh our way out of trouble.
We find Blackheath. Steve lived here with his ex. Blackheath is very nice. "And now you're in Streatham. Don't you miss this?" "Don't you miss money?" One second thinking about my rich ex. An easy smile, "No!"
Cambridge! Our car the only car in the hotel car park. ("Der doop!")
Serious brown-pattered bedding, it feels too grown-up. Giggly fun, it feels too teenage.
Students on bikes. Colleges. Goats with spots. Spot the silly street name - 'Pety Cury', 'Trumpington Street', 'Jesus Green.'
Border's 3 for 2. We buy '3 for 2' for two.
Cambridge shops. "I'll choose something for you. You choose something for me?"
Next Mens. A pink and orange stripy jumper. I carry it through to Steve in Ladies, trying to keep a straight face. Failing. Giggling.
"Don't be stupid!" says fat red faced woman. "You're so stupid! Don't laugh," she snarls. "You're just being so stupid!"
I want to run. Steve shouts. I just cry.
A pint. A pint for Steve too. Didn't Steve stop drinking 6 years ago?
Another pub. We agree about the wooden tables. I like the curved bench held together with a metal strap. We like a picture of a sad person in the street.
We play a game.
"Coldplay or Travis?"
"Daffodils or roses?"
"Mushy peas or baked beans?"
"Monkeys or elephants?"
A Croatian Italian restaurant, or going back to bed?
It's 10pm, can we still get food?
Turkish vegetarain moussaka in an olde world cafe. Lumpy bumpy toffee for pudding.
Will the hotel bar be open still? Taxi! "The bar is shut." No apology. A discussion of Cambridge rudeness...
Bed. Serious sheets, we're un-serious under them.
Breakfast before 9 - too early. A Guardian outside our bedroom door. Fruit and croissant for me. Sausage and bacon for Steve. The newspaper. The news says, 'Online poker is fucked!'
A phone call from my boss. Reassurance that I still have a job.
"You knew? Why didn't you tell me?"
Crossness. Sulks. A grumpy walk by the river. Our first ever row.
We discuss fishing and mushrooms. We go to Borders, 'How to be a mushroom hunter'.
Mocha ('Choffee' Steve calls it.) Thai Chai latte ('Remind me to get that next time')
A silly Cambridge name again. The Whipple Museum. Old oak cases filled with Mr.Whipple's telescopes and scientific gadgets.
Shopping. I want a bra and pants. Too fancy. Too plain. Too sexy. Not sexy enough. Anne Summers for giggles. Debenhams for, 'any customer in household and kitchen will be given a free kitchen knife.'
A demonstrator cutting a hammer with a kitchen knife.
"For only £23 you'll get 6 knives, and I'll throw in 2 lemon juicers!"
I reach for £23 before realising I'm doing it for the lemon juicers. We escape with a free gift, and lots of free laughter about this.
No bra and pants. "We're not good at shopping, are we?"
Pubs. Bed. "I've never had tapas." Sangria. Why is he drinking again after 6 years? The hotel bar. More beer. More bed. More tears. "A girl asked me out on Friday." Oh. "I said no." More "Fuck offs" than there should ever be between a couple in love.
Fruit and croissants. Prunes for me. Alpen for Steve. Prunes for Steve too.
We pack.
"Der doop."
Imperial War Museum Duxford. Planes. Tanks. Soldier-boy Steve. I'm more interested than I thought. "Is there a book called the Battle of Britain for Girls?"
Lunch. A country pub. "I want chips!" "We don't have any chips."
We smile.
We drive. We're happy. We're home.
"Der doop."
A text. 'Blue-ish.'
Silver-blue.
"Does the car key thing say 'der-doop'?"
No.
"Der doop!" I have to say it. And I have to say it again, because the magic's always better the next time around.
Amy, "Chessington!"
Jo "Legoland?"
Steve, "Safari park?"
Amy, "Chessington! Chessington! Chessington! Chessington! Chessington!"
Chessington. Rain.
"Bubbleworks is best!" A boat ride. Silvery fountains. Giant plastic ducks.
Rain.
"Who can ride the rollercoaster without screaming!"
Not me. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Rain, rain, rain.
"Der doop."
Home. Wet clothes off. Hot tea. Warm hugs.
I pack my clothes in Steve's orange suitcase.
"Der doop!"
We don't need maps. If we get lost we'll laugh our way out of trouble.
We find Blackheath. Steve lived here with his ex. Blackheath is very nice. "And now you're in Streatham. Don't you miss this?" "Don't you miss money?" One second thinking about my rich ex. An easy smile, "No!"
Cambridge! Our car the only car in the hotel car park. ("Der doop!")
Serious brown-pattered bedding, it feels too grown-up. Giggly fun, it feels too teenage.
Students on bikes. Colleges. Goats with spots. Spot the silly street name - 'Pety Cury', 'Trumpington Street', 'Jesus Green.'
Border's 3 for 2. We buy '3 for 2' for two.
Cambridge shops. "I'll choose something for you. You choose something for me?"
Next Mens. A pink and orange stripy jumper. I carry it through to Steve in Ladies, trying to keep a straight face. Failing. Giggling.
"Don't be stupid!" says fat red faced woman. "You're so stupid! Don't laugh," she snarls. "You're just being so stupid!"
I want to run. Steve shouts. I just cry.
A pint. A pint for Steve too. Didn't Steve stop drinking 6 years ago?
Another pub. We agree about the wooden tables. I like the curved bench held together with a metal strap. We like a picture of a sad person in the street.
We play a game.
"Coldplay or Travis?"
"Daffodils or roses?"
"Mushy peas or baked beans?"
"Monkeys or elephants?"
A Croatian Italian restaurant, or going back to bed?
It's 10pm, can we still get food?
Turkish vegetarain moussaka in an olde world cafe. Lumpy bumpy toffee for pudding.
Will the hotel bar be open still? Taxi! "The bar is shut." No apology. A discussion of Cambridge rudeness...
Bed. Serious sheets, we're un-serious under them.
Breakfast before 9 - too early. A Guardian outside our bedroom door. Fruit and croissant for me. Sausage and bacon for Steve. The newspaper. The news says, 'Online poker is fucked!'
A phone call from my boss. Reassurance that I still have a job.
"You knew? Why didn't you tell me?"
Crossness. Sulks. A grumpy walk by the river. Our first ever row.
We discuss fishing and mushrooms. We go to Borders, 'How to be a mushroom hunter'.
Mocha ('Choffee' Steve calls it.) Thai Chai latte ('Remind me to get that next time')
A silly Cambridge name again. The Whipple Museum. Old oak cases filled with Mr.Whipple's telescopes and scientific gadgets.
Shopping. I want a bra and pants. Too fancy. Too plain. Too sexy. Not sexy enough. Anne Summers for giggles. Debenhams for, 'any customer in household and kitchen will be given a free kitchen knife.'
A demonstrator cutting a hammer with a kitchen knife.
"For only £23 you'll get 6 knives, and I'll throw in 2 lemon juicers!"
I reach for £23 before realising I'm doing it for the lemon juicers. We escape with a free gift, and lots of free laughter about this.
No bra and pants. "We're not good at shopping, are we?"
Pubs. Bed. "I've never had tapas." Sangria. Why is he drinking again after 6 years? The hotel bar. More beer. More bed. More tears. "A girl asked me out on Friday." Oh. "I said no." More "Fuck offs" than there should ever be between a couple in love.
Fruit and croissants. Prunes for me. Alpen for Steve. Prunes for Steve too.
We pack.
"Der doop."
Imperial War Museum Duxford. Planes. Tanks. Soldier-boy Steve. I'm more interested than I thought. "Is there a book called the Battle of Britain for Girls?"
Lunch. A country pub. "I want chips!" "We don't have any chips."
We smile.
We drive. We're happy. We're home.
"Der doop."
posted by Jo at 9:26 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home