Allo Allo....Wheres Rene?

So, after a nightmare journey back to Rock HQ I wasn't particularly enamoured with the idea of traveling down to Newton Abbot to fetch a car back. I cannot drive at the moment, only having one arm that's serviceable severely restricts your ability to drive as the highway code instructs.

We currently have a small fleet of cars, none of which are capable of daily trips up and down the half mile long dirt track to the cottage. The slightest hint of snow means the poor cars cannot get up the hill and the torrential rain has made deep ruts and some potholes big enough to be visable from space.

A four by four was required, and as we also work to live here it had to be a car type suitable for fairly lengthy road trips. After much deliberation Tracey and I decided to go for the Renault Megane Rx4. Eventually we found one on ebay and after much haggling got a good 'un for a fair price. Trouble was it was in Torquay, hence me having to endure more trains the day after the London nightmare.

But this time I was travelling with my beautiful wife as a travelling companion so all was well with the world. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and we set off on our adventure.

It went very smoothly, we had reserved seats so were comfortable for the whole journey in the quiet carriage. Two french toddlers demonstrated their appreciation for the peace and quiet of the carriage by singing their national anthem at every stop.

We arrived in Newton Abbot, unsure where to go or who we were meeting. Good job we had mobile phones, a text message told us they were at the front of the station and soon we were looking at our new motor. It was just as they said it was, a peculiar greypurpleblue colour with an amazing stereo which for me is a key selling point. Two years ago I based my entire decision on the selection a a brand new car on the quality of the stereo. The Ford Focus's doors and windows nearly blew off when I played Jane's Addictions "Just Because" at full volume in the showroom. Sold!!

Anyway we set off for the Rock in the car, now named Rene the Renault, listening to every new squeak, groan or clatter praying the strange noises were not signals that the car was about to fall apart.

We decided to pay a surprise visit on Anne and Paul who live in a lovely village in Somerset. As he opened his front door and said "Hello, what a nice surprise!" I really couldn't help myself and heard my self say "Sorry we're late mate the traffic was awful" and pushed past him to get inside.
His smile wavered slightly, as he would be one of the first to admit he is prone to forgetting things "Its good to see you" he continued the welcome speech as I shouted "Trace, leave the bags I'll get them later"

Now he definitely looked worried, I heaped it on, "You've forgotten we were coming haven't you, Trace we have got the right weekend, Paul it was this weekend wasn't it?"

He looked distinctly perplexed "Er... Anne's out the back" and pointed weakly to the backdoor as Tracey joined us. "Shes with the chickens" (We gave her some hens for her birthday, well chicks really)

We went through, and Anne was as surprised as Paul to see us. Paul shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably as Anne asked him if he knew we were visiting. We let him off the hook, much to his relief. My tendancy to tease friends will get me into trouble one day, like the time my cousin phoned and asked how my Dad was. Before I could stop myself I said "He died yesterday" and so followed a lengthy conversation where at each point I was going to say only joking, but found myself locked into arranging funerals and composing the order of the service and so on. As I put the phone down a distinctly unimpressed Tracey insisted I phone him straight back. He listened in silence as I apologised, he took it well but he's still not talking to me.

As Anne cooked us lunch I asked Paul if I could have my shoes back. He had taken them last time he had stayed at the Rock, brand new they were, unworn in fact. He insisted they were his. Anne suddenly stopped the food preparations, "Shoes? Paul were those bloody shoes your were tripping round in all last weekend not yours?" she asked.

It transpired that Paul had been wearing my shoes, a size 10, his feet are an 8, and as he walked he stumbled and tripped so many times in my shoes that were clearly too big for him his family were concerned he had the onset of Parkinson's as he shuffled to stay upright, they were very relieved to hear that Paul's nervous system was not failing and his clumsiness could be rectified by returning the shoes to their rightful owner. You might wonder why Paul hadn't realised they were not his shoes, that they were in fact two sizes too big and perhaps the final clue was the new size 10 sticker he had torn from the sole of each shoe. But Paul doesn't think like that, hes a chemist you see.

We said our goodbyes and left Paul plotting revenge and Anne plotting to have him sectioned and we made our weary way back to the Rock.

Back home we fed the livestock, exercised the dogs, put the birds away and did our usual jobs before settling down for the evening. The house was empty, Ben and Gemma had gone to town, Beth was working, Karl had gone over to stay at another friends house so Ben could have his room back for the weekend, so we did what any married couple deeply in love would do when they found they had the house to themselves for the night.

We fell asleep.