I Met Him!

Yesterday was the annual Boscastle Football Match between all the boys in Revered Son's year from his old school.  The most interesting aspect of the midday event was either the choice of clothing worn by formerly glamorous Mums, ensuring they stayed warm in an easterly gale blowing across the cliffs direct from Siberia; or the sloe gin/champagne cocktails served in large, real glass glasses by self-styled 'Barman Bill'.

We endured three hours of it, as I cruised carboots scavenging smoked salmon sandwiches, because my life has been too difficult recently to make up a picnic of my own for myself or the children.

Then some of us reconvened to the Hosts' kitchen where the merriment continued. The left-over revellers comprising, typically, Her, Ex, Me, and a couple of others who made a fairly rapid exit.  At last, finally, She disappeared, so I could  relax, and then Ex went too, leaving me to enjoy myself with my lovely Host friends.  But then the door opened and OMG - She reappeared, with... Bevan!

Blimey - what a shock!  I felt quite wobbly! I'm not really sure why.  I was sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by 14 year old boys, with a cup of coffee and a glass of Cava in front of me, and fag in hand.

I found myself competing with Host, who had also been at Eton at the same time, yelling, "Do you remember ME?!"

"No do you remember ME?!"

"Oh only my sister? Bugger.  Everybody always remembers her.."

He started talking Green Wellie Shooting with Host so eventually I thought it time to depart in Marvin for my B&B which costs £32.50 a night.  As I left, Host showed my around his outside cottage which he aims to let via Ultimate Home Stays.  We're all at it.  It is doing his head in how much work he has left to do.

As I drove home I felt a bit tearful. No home, no Range Rover, my family spread all over Europe, Twiglet off to Kathy's for a week. All downsized.  All because of Her, still enjoying herself yacking away introducing the new boyfriend, who's not half as charismatic, charming or good looking as Ex, just richer,  to all our friends.

But then I thought what a funny world.  I actually rather enjoy being anonymous, in my funny old car, playing all my favourite songs on my i-trip, off to God knows where, where someone else will do my washing and cook my breakfast.  I can just lie in the bath and read my new book called "An Unusual Love Story" I have just bought at the co-op, and then watch telly, while tucking into prawns and yet more Cava.