said, “Mystery Woman. You are Mystery Woman. Not as you used to be – ‘Oooooooh my boy entrancers have stuck together’ Woman?”
Home 5:30 p.m.
Oh boo. Now I’ve got the screaming heebie-jeebies and doubtosityall rolled into one. Perhaps Masimo says “See you when I get back, Miss Hard to Get” to everyone.
5:45 p.m.
Just when you think things couldn’t get any worse, they take a turn for the worserer.
Grandad has cancelled his cat duties because he’s going on a bicycling tour to the Lake District. He says he has heard the call of the wild and is setting out tonight with his backpack.
I cannot believe the utter selfishosity of the elderly.
5:50 p.m.
Family “conference” (aka Dad shouting a lot).
We can’t think of anyone stupid…er…kind enough to look after Angus and Gordy.
6:15 p.m.
Mum has tried all her so-called aerobics friends and none of them will come over.
I said to her, “Did you tell them about the mice cream incident?”
Of course she has, so she has only herself to blame.
6:30 p.m.
Sadly I have also shown off about Angus and Gordy’s “adventures” and alluring little habits vis à vis woodland animals, pooing, etc. So none of my friends will have anything to do with them. Rosie said that Sven said he’d look after Angus and Gordy in a cave he has found. But the whole idea of that is far, far too weird.
Vati said, “What about a cattery, then?”
That’s when Angus came in with a spade. We all just looked at one another.
Vati said, “Well, there is only one thing for it. I’m going to have to ask for a bit of neighbourly support.”
7:15 p.m.
Dad went to Mr Next Door first. As he went through the door he said, “Alfred and I have always had a bit of an understanding, although I know we’ve had our differences vis à vis the damage Angus has done to his rhododendrons—”
I said, “And when he rounded the Prat Poodles up and trapped them in the greenhouse.”
“Yes, well…”
“And then rode them round like little horsies.”
“Yes, well…”
“And the dog psychiatrist having to come in.”
Dad took his coat off.
7:25 p.m.
Dad said, “I’ll just pop across the road to Colin and, you know, see if maybe he could just keep an eye on feeding them.”
7:28 p.m.
Dad’s back.
He said, “He laughed.”
Dad has slammed off to the pub to talk to Uncle Eddie and see if he knows any fools who might help us out.
7:33 p.m.
Doorbell rang. I looked down the stairs from the safety of my bedroom.
Mutti answered. Uh-oh. It was one of our beloved boys in blue. And as policemen go, he didn’t look pleased. Now what?
I scampered down the stairs to give my mutti moral support. Although, as it happens, basooma support would have been more appropriate. Hasn’t she got one single piece of clothing that doesn’t reveal far too much flesh?
I put an interested look on my face. It’s the one I use when Hawkeye asks me where my homework is. It usually results in double detention, but you can’t have everything. The constable looked at me, and it wasn’t his guardian-of-the-community-and-servant-of-the-people look.
He said to Mum, “Good evening, madam, can you tell me if you know this person?” And he held up Grandad’s O.A.P. card, the one with the photo of him with the earring in.
Don’t ask.
Mum said, “Yes, it’s my father…Oh My God, is he all right?”
The officer said, “Yes, he is, madam, but he is a danger to himself and others.”
I said, “You can say that again, officer. I don’t need a helmet and truncheon to figure that out.”
Mum said, “Shut up, Georgia.”
Which I think is probably abusive behaviour, but I let it go.
It turns out that, for once, the officer was the bearer of glad tidings. Grandad had set out on his six-hundred-mile bike ride to the Lake District and fell off at the end of his street. But not before he knocked the policeman off his new community bike.
“I’d only had it for a week, madam.”
I tried to look concerned.
The policeman opened his notebook. “The gentleman we have now positively identified as your father was wearing Lycra shorts and kept falling off his bike. I asked him to walk a straight line.”
Mutti said, “Oh my goodness, had he been drinking?”
The officer said, “I don’t know, madam, but he refused to walk the line on account of an old war wound. Then he said…” The officer looked down at his notes again. “…‘Do you want to come back to my place, constable, and have one for the road?’”
You have to give Grandad full marks on the lunacy scale.
8:00 p.m.
The policeman radioed into his station and Grandad was released from chokey after being charged with careless biking and not having a bell. Apparently the budgie bell he had Sellotaped on to the handlebar doesn’t count.
He now has a criminal record.
Mum was all flustered and kept apologising to the policeman as he went off. “I am so sorry, officer. I hope you can mend your bike and you haven’t been hurt at all.”
The policeman said, “No, well, I’m quite tough, madam.”
“Yes, well you do seem very fit. I do a bit of aerobics myself; it’s awfully good for keeping in shape.”
The policeman winked at her (honestly!) and he said, “Yes, I can see that. Anyway, madam, I’d better be on my way.”
And then he said that classic thing that you think you’d only see on TV. He said, “Mind how you go, it’s a jungle out there.”
Mum practically wet herself with laughing. She is so so sad and embarrassing. After the policeman had gone I just looked at her, and she said, “What? What?”
I said, “You know what. You were practically slavering over him.”
“Well, he was a nice young man – of course, far too young for me.”
Unbelievable!!!
In my bedroom
How very embarrassing my family is.
Midnight
Still, on the plus side, Grandad’s cycling days are over