Bermudababble Week Twenty Two
This week I have felt like the world is quite small! At 7pm on Wednesday – I was wearing my flip flops, sitting on the terrace of a café in Bermuda in 84 degrees, waiting for the Major and by 7am the next morning – I was in my walking boots on a train station platform in London trying to avoid the drunk man who almost slept on my shoulder and with a large dollop of pigeon poo on the bench next to me.
It’s been a fab week, funny and busy. We went out for a very fancy pants meal on Sunday night – a rarity for us, as we are more kind of ‘grab a sandwich and go’ type of people, but this was a dress up and put on some lippy affair! (That was me, not my husband; he just stuck to mascara and blusher…) We had a really great time; laughing and chatting with the pink sky and rolling waves as our backdrop, cue soft music and misty eyes…
Now, as you know, I am not a drinker, in fact if I have a drink more than twice a year it means we have new additions to the family or one of us has got wed. Anyhoo, I think I might have got carried away with the whole event and ordered a strawberry daiquiri – as you do. I thought it made me sound sophisticated.
It arrived in a tall glass, garnished with a cherry and with a long straw, it looked harmless and reminded me of the milkshakes we used to get in the Wimpy when I was a kid – yum! I sipped it and it was delish! Not at all boozy or strong, just what a lightweight like me fancied on this special evening. Or so I thought. Let me tell you, that strawberry daquiri was the drink equivalent of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, it was that little tiny chilli pepper that looks so cute, but one bite and your tongue peels, it was the tiny thorn that is hard to find but once its in your tootsie – ay ay ay! – you get the idea.
The lovely man behind the bar had generously sloshed a few measures of rum and something else into the glass and disguised the boozy taste with strawberry slush and syrup. Oh. My. Word. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and as I drained my glass, I felt the strangest sensation that my tongue no longer fitted in my mouth, my vision was blurry and everything my husband said was quite possibly the funniest thing I had EVER heard. I was sloshed.
I shan’t give you the sordid details, but suffice to say that as we left the very posh, cordon bleu, fine dining, mega swanky terrace littered with beautiful people picking at salad, I thought it would be a good idea to try and steal the patio umbrella and have it away – on our moped.
I would have got away with it too if it wasn’t for the lump of concrete it was attached to and the security guards who carried me to the hog…
Moving swiftly on. We were invited to have drinks with the Governor and his wife at Government House on Monday night. I was very anxious about what to wear, but managed to tart up some white jeans with a swirly white tunic and my Primark bling. I was a bit nervous and in response to the first thing our lovely host said to me, ‘would you like a drink, Amanda?’ I responded with, ‘Oh God no, I got larruped last night and tried to nick some garden furniture before being escorted from the premises…’
I vaguely remember the Major burying his hands in his face and shaking his head as his dreams of promotion are dashed, again. I can only repeat, I AM SORRY!
The beginning of the week was spent catching up with chores in Bermuda so I could leave for ten days and now I’m back here catching up on chores that have been neglected in my absence. I see a theme!
I had the joy of sitting on my flight to the UK with lots of the golfers from the PGA tournament that had been playing in Bermuda, embarrassingly I didn’t know who any of them were – the only golfer I would recognize is Nick Faldo because he used to advertise Bic razors and I stared at one of the posters for a month or so outside my office window!
I think one of the men had won it – yay! I enthused, was it difficult? Been playing long? Ever had a strawberry daquiri? I know I know, naff questions, but it literally is a sport that I know nothing about other than you do it on grass and use sticks, clubs! I mean clubs.
I was so very excited to get back and see my boys and I think they were pleased to see me. Within minutes of opening the front door I was cooking, washing and making cups of tea that were ferried up and down the stairs… I suddenly worked out why I have written so much in Bermuda, it’s not only that I am inspired by the place, it’s because I’m not running around after the boys – gaining hours of writing time, every day!
Minutes ago, I casually asked son number two what his plans were for this evening, he turned off the TV and said, ‘I thought we could spend some time together, shall we go to the cinema?’ I could only nod the answer at my beer-swilling rugby monster as the lump in my throat prevented speech…
I have a new short story coming out on Oct 24th – ‘The Game’ and I really hope you like it. Here’s the link for anyone that fancies a gander http://amzn.to/1aQCyZv on the same day I shall be speaking at the Barking and Dagenham reading festival in the evening so pop along if you are in the vicinity! Oh and I’m popping up on Essex FM on Tuesday!
Right – time to Skype the Major – I think – I have no idea what the time is anywhere on the planet or even what day it is! I just know that tomorrow I shall be reunited with my best friend, anyone in the West country might want to pop ear plugs in at around midday, there’s gonna be a lot of squealing…
Being nice is infectious, did you know that?
Mandy x
©Amanda Prowse – all enquiries PFD ajhughes@pfd.co.uk. +44 (0)20 7344 1084
