Last day in France

 One more day to go I thought as I walked downstairs into the kitchen. I heard Jolyon coughing and wheezing outside, a cigarette in one hand and his ventilator in another. He announced he was not very well, that he felt ‘broken’ and needed to walk it off around the lakes. He grabbed his cigarettes and ventilator and proceeded to march through the village like Captain Mannering on a mission. I was also feeling pretty horrid and after a strong coffee and some croissant I lay down on Mum’s bed to rest. Because of her broken leg & ankle (another story) she had made up a small bed downstairs. Her kindly neighbours also gave her a pulley to lift herself in and out of bed and a Zimmer frame!! Her sitting room and dining room resembled a hospital ward.

An hour or so into my rest I heard Jolyon march into the kitchen announcing he was feeling much better and could he now order scrambled eggs on toast and coffee. Clearly he had forgotten Mum was practically crippled, and I made it known to him by screaming from my sick bed what a lazy git he was and he should cook it himself!! I then fell back to sleep until I was rudely awoken by the girls who decided it was rather fun to stick their little fingers up my nose. At this point I realised I would never get any rest and got up. Somebody had to ring Avis to arrange for a taxi to collect us and take us back to Bordeaux airport tomorrow. The number on the Avis contract was dead and I had to call their Paris office. After 20 minutes of holding and listening to various recorded messages I was beginning to get very annoyed. At last I was put through to Shona who assured me a taxi would arrive at our house at 08.30am, it would be big enough for 3 adults and 2 children, and also have child seats.

Our flight was 6pm, but we just wanted to get to the airport and Avis were not willing to send a taxi any later in the day. Relieved that we were all sorted Carolyn and me took the girls for a walk around the one small supermarket in the village – Maxi! It was closed. So we walked back to Mum’s and watched Dickinsons Deal with Jolyon.

That evening we all decided to hit the hay early in order to be ready for the taxi. It had been a nice day, at least Carolyn and the twins were feeling better. As I closed the shutters I could hear Jolyon coughing and wheezing below. He was sitting in his little plastic chair outside the kitchen having his final fag and snifter. Mum’s pulley was slowly placing her head on her pillow and the girls were grunting like a couple of piglets. One more sleep to go and then off home.

Leaving the garage – on route to Excideuil

Jolyon sems to be constantly arguing with the sat nav and we end up near Paris!  We had just spent 450 Euros on getting the car fixed and we were still going around in circles. Both babies were now wide awake. Carolyn felt sick and faint. Jolyon was screaming at the sat nav and insisted we turn it off and follow our nose. I needed a drink.

Due to Carolyn feeling faint and wanting to vomit. The children shitting and vomming in the back, and my car sickness, it was down to Jolyon to continue the long drive to Perigeaux and beyond. His dismay at this (as he could not stop at the various wineries and sample their goods) was thwarted by my offering of an extra strong mint.

We slowly wobbled (the car steering was fu*&ed) through SW France. Destination:Excideuil – Mothers 70th Birthday Bash.

Unfortunately Carolyn’s health deteriorated on route. The girls followed through and Jolyon became sick of my extra strong mints.

Were we ever to arrive in time for the party? Did that last sign really say Spain? Did Jolyon just cough?

Goodbye Cransac. It’s been fun!?

Tuesday 7th August – Goodbye Cransac  

Jolyon ordered a coffee and croissant and ate hastily in front of me. I watched my little brother as he was patted on the back by the locals – all of them quite clearly amazed that he was still alive after the Pastis drinking competition (Fred the alcoholic had still not been seen). Jolyon consumed the adoration with glee and his head became a medicine ball of proudness. I called him a dick and asked if he was ready to leave. He was, apart from something of importance he needed to collect from Jesse. I did not question this. For the first time since our arrival we all felt reasonably OK. Our heads were quite clear and I had no reason to vomit or retch. Jesse came and sat down with us. Our flight was late afternoon so Jesse would pick us up from the apartment at 2pm – he would also give Jolyon the ‘package’. Coco came over to our table and started chatting to me. I nodded and grinned.

We moved outside as the sun was out and took a last look at our surroundings. We agreed that this town was the strangest place we had set foot in. The people, albeit very nice, were clearly missing a brain cell. Most did not work and spent their days in the bar or buying scratch cards. Jolyon sat back and blew out a long cloud of smoke. Then he asked me to ‘trot’ to the newsagent and buy 10 scratch cards – I told him to bugger off and opened up my Ipad. As I wrote some of my thoughts down his grubby ET-like finger suddenly started poking at my screen as he questioned what I was doing and how it worked. In a matter of seconds he had managed to lose everything I had written. I snapped shut my Ipad just missing his finger and announced I was off back to the apartment to check we had packed everything.

The apartment revolted me more than I had ever been revolted before. Jolyon’s dirty smelly sheets adorned the floor. On the table there were piles of loose change, used scratch cards, a line of urine smelling 50 Euro notes and two large cheeses! I wrapped each cheese in a plastic bag and shoved them into his man bag. In the bathroom all his ‘man-stuff’ remained. I.e. his miniature toothpaste, miniature tooth brush, miniature shampoo, conditioner and soap. All stuff he had purchased at the airport. The sink was full of white liquid and whiskers. Without realising it I had stood on the soggy stinking shower towel on the floor. I had no shoes on. I wanted to pinch him.

Jolyon returned as I was just getting into the gymnastics. Jesse arrived on time and gave Jolyon a plastic bag. It contained a clean pair of boxers and trousers which had been washed and beautifully ironed by Coco. He threw them into his man bag on top of the cheese. I smirked.

Jesse got the car and parked outside. I was relieved to see it was his own car. We threw in our belongings and I was kicked to the back seat. We drove 50 yards and then stopped outside the bar so we could wave goodbye to everyone. Fred was there at last and he came out to kiss us goodbye and pat Jolyon on the shoulder. The cough mixture lady waved and then started to cough so violently I thought we may have to call the paramedics. I saw Loola the gypsy swaying from side to side as he walked out of the bar and headed to work in the park. And the man-woman in the oily overalls was managing to smoke and eat her lunch at the same time. Coco rushed over and kissed us all 3 times and said something. I grinned and nodded. And then we set off to the airport.

We arrived and jumped out. The plan was to check in and then have a last snifter with Jesse at the bar. I dragged my heavy bag with all the wine to the check in – Jolyon completely oblivious to the fact I could barely carry it. Jolyon waiting outside the terminal smoking and chatting to Jesse. I prayed my case would go through. It did. The camp French man told me I should hurry up to the departure terminal as the flight was ready to leave. I rushed out to Jolyon and told him we needed to go through now. He was astonished and amazed and utterly distraught that we could not have a final snifter.

We made it through and into the departure lounge. We had to wait 40 minutes for our flight which infuriated Jolyon.

The flight was quick.  We managed to consume two glasses of red and then sleep for the journey.  Before I could say tie me to the side of a pig and roll me in the mud, we had arrived.

As I slowly walked to the baggage reclaim, Jolyon sprinted pasted me like John Cleese on route to a smoking area and to meet Gilal our driver.  Once again I was left to pick up the luggage and carry it back to the car.

I dragged my heavy case along the long corridors and thru passport control, out the door and onto the road where I found Jolyon and Gilal . The sweat was dripping down my cheeks as Jolyon made a menopausal joke. I told him to fuck off and gave my bag to him.

As we drove out of Standsted and headed home I took out a mint and sucked hard. Gilal was still fasting and was so thin I thought he would faint at the wheel. I gently tapped on Jolyon’s shoulder and said that I thought Jesse had really enjoyed our company and that I hoped and prayed his operation would be ok. Jolyon’s response was a grunt and a snore and a wheeze and sneeze so foul I thought he had sprayed the dashboard.

I sat back and fell into sleep until Henley Bridge.  I waved at Midge and Graham as we drove passed the Angel on the Bridge, they did not see me. 

As I walked through the door I could hear the children screaming.  Home Sweet Home.  I love Henley!

Fini

 

The Cough Mixture Lady and Synchronized Swimming

 Saturday 4th August – Cransac

The alarm clock on his phone woke me up at 6am, then again at 6.05am, 6.10am, 6.15am, 6.20am – at 6.30am I jumped out of bed, ran into the sitting room and threw his phone on the floor. It stopped. Jolyon was on the sofa bed, head down, fully clothed. His breathing was heavy and staggered, like a wild boar slowly dying in the wilderness. He was lying diagonally with his stinky feet over the edge of the bed. By his mouth was a puddle of dribble. The stale cigarette stench, alcohol fumes and ageing bottom burps hit my nostrils and I found myself once more with my cupped hand over my mouth.

Our apartment was on the road and to enter it one had to slip a key into a keyhole, twist it, and watch as a heavy grey metal shutter slowly ascended. Therefore you could not open the window at night to air the place – I had to suffer the stench of my brother for another 3 nights. I shuddered at the thought.

I needed air and opened up the shutter and walked up to the bar for breakfast. I bumped into the stinky woman with no teeth. She gave me a funny look and grunted bonjour. She wore a rag on her head, an old dress over a pair of leggings and boots – it was a hot day! She would sit in the bar and cough, deep gut wrenching coughs that would usually end up with her bent over double and then spitting something out onto the pavement. She never drank alcohol though – instead she was addicted to cough mixture and drank up to 4 bottles a day.

I finished my coffee and took a walk into the town. It was empty. No shops, no supermarkets, no nothing. It was eerily quiet. I power walked back to the bar and wrote my blog.

At the apartment Jolyon remained in exactly the same position – face down. He woke as I came out of the shower and asked me to look at his feet. He seemed concerned that Cath (his girlfriend) had noticed blemishes and the odd lump. As he peeled off his sweaty socks I saw the claws poke through and stepped back making a cross sign with my fingers. The sight and smell of what lived in his socks was too much – I retreated to my room and sucked hard on a mint, I looked in the mirror and thought for a brief second my mouth resembled my cat’s ass. I had to get out of this place.

We headed back to the bar for midday and had the plat du jour. Like Jolyon, Jesse is a great cook and has treated the locals to some fabulous dishes. The wine was ordered, the food came and went. We stared at the strange array of nutters entering the bar. I assumed there must be a hospital for ‘special’ people somewhere. Fred the alcoholic arrived in his usual attire – military trousers, military tee-shirt and boots. He kissed me and laughed out loud at Jolyon. With nothing more to do we purchased scratch cards for the afternoon and lost a small fortune. I went back to the apartment to watch the synchronised swimming. Jolyon did not.

The text said Help Saz. Joe pissed. Can you come and get him. As I closed the shutters I could hear the sound of Wild Rover – yet the lyrics were not as I knew them. As I neared the bar I realised it was Jolyon singing. I walked in and found him with one arm around the toothless cough mixture womanr and one arm around Loola. Coco was filling his glass with Hendricks. He was banging the bar with his hands and stamping his feet. He called me sweet pea and I gagged. He grabbed me to him and started singing again, but the words were random. He said Ho Ho Ho and I said Time to Go! We carried him home and once again he was thrown onto the sofa bed face down where he remained until morning.

Could I really cope with another 2 nights of this? I sprayed some of my perfume in the sitting room and went to bed. Tomorrow I was going to the market with Jesse and then we were having lunch in the next town.

As I fell into sleep, I replayed in my head the Spanish synchronised swimming team until I was rudely interrupted by a grunt and groan from the stench pit next door. And then nothing.