A quiet start to the week, and then it's lift off. I have already received T's text saying his 8:30 appt is off. This arrives at 10:30pm. Enough of this. Time to read the riot act.
S had booked her theory test for today. As she had been so busy/ill etc she tried to cancel it. She never checked that the cancellation had gone through though, and hey presto! it hadn't. She decided she may as well give it a go, and remarkably fails by just one point. Brilliant effort.
Then it's over to Aylesbury for S's date with destiny.
For over 13 months we have pounded the roads of Aylesbury. There can't be a piece of tarmac in the town centre we have trundled over a hundred times. He has shown improvement, and even put in one really god mock test. So why do I have a feeling of dread?
He is actually in good form. None of the huffing and puffing which often betray nerves with him. He confesses to nerves though, and I can never be confident about him. Even if he passes my message will be "drive miles and miles and miles under the eye of your girlfriend"
We wait in the waiting room.Three cheerful instructors come bounding in, all smiles and bonhomie. And then comes a forth. He gives the air of a retired prison screw with a chip on his shoulder. He calls out the name "Simon"
"We're both Simon" I pipe up, "Can I do the test?" This goes down like a lump of cold sick.
As a sideshow a young Sikh guy fails the eyesight test and his examiner starts measuring the distance in the road. He gets there in the end.
The waiting room is tiny, but gives it an air of intimacy, and the other instructors are a really nice bunch. I confess my fears for Simon. The time flies by and all of a sudden they are back, Simon second. My little red car thuds to a halt, the examiner nearly going through the windscreen. It's all I need to know. Mr Mackay looks round for me and I am summoned to the debrief. 14 bloody minors and at least 2 serious. He hasn't checked his mirrors the whole way round, he's nearly run over a pedestrian on a yellow light. It goes on and on.
I do feel sorry for him, but also kind of desperate. I really think the only option for him is to keep taking the tests until he strikes lucky one day. Not good for my pass rate.
Next to A, the grandson of J & P. He has struck me as arrogant and unlikeable on the phone, but as is sometimes the case, it is his phone manner which lets him down. He is actually a nice lad. His last test was a catastrophe which make S's look a decent effort. 19 & 3!! To my amazement he turns out to be a pretty decent driver, and he shouldn't have too much to do to pass. I am confused!
Get home exhausted. This work is amazingly tiring and the sun has a wearing effect. Today is a summer's day without any contradiction. It's searing. 27 degrees (Fahrenheit seems more and more a busted flush these days.)
In colder climes, Phoenix is having trouble digging up it's martian arctic samples and delivering them to the oven for cooking. No one seems to be panicking too much, but anxious times for all concerned.
There is an atmosphere in the house which I assume is an overspill of yesterday's hostilities. In truth there is little warmth between me and H for more than a moment at a time. On my return from the curry house I enquire sarcastically whether the plasterer will be starting work on Monday (knowing full well that absolutely zilch has been arranged). The riposte of verbal venom which is spat back at me is impressive, even by H's high standards.
She has taken to sleeping downstairs. Rather than crash on the sofa and awake at 3 am I am now using the sofa bed.
I get a text
"For what it's worth. Happy anniversary xxxx!
Whoops
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