Day out

So, what a splendid thing that I forgot to get Mark’s suit from the dry cleaner’s, because as it happened when he dug out his next favourite it turned out to have ten pounds in the pocket that he had forgotten about. He does that with his suits and nice overcoat, on the principle that if he is wearing one of them he is probably going somewhere that is going to cost him a lot of money, and therefore it will be very handy to have a stash of emergency funds.

We had a fairly uneventful trip down in the camper van, which lurched and rolled its way steadily down the motorway with the usual cloud of black smoke following it, but it has got another year’s MOT on it now, so we felt cheerfully reckless that nothing could possibly go wrong.

There were security guards on the gate at the train depot where we were going, who stared at the whole outfit in disbelief, especially since the chap in front of us was going for the interview before, and had already got his smart suit on, did not have a scruffy dog growling on the seat behind him, and could not under any circumstances have been mistaken for a New Age Traveller.

We parked in as discreet a corner of the car park as we could manage, nowhere is ever very discreet when you have got a seven metre long truck and a cloud of black smoke. We had a cup of coffee and Mark explained the political and financial circumstances of the train company to me, and told me about his reservations about the job and the things that interested him, and I was jolly impressed with his general knowledge. Then he changed into his smart suit and expensive overcoat and topped the whole lot off with his hat, which looked ace, and made him into a very surprising figure to be emerging from the camper van.

I tidied up and swept and got rid of the difficulties caused by our newly-arrived mouse in the camper, and was deeply immersed in my library book which is a fascinating story about the riots in Alcatraz, by the time he came back, grinning and cheerful, having made a splendid impression and enjoyed himself hugely. He was so pleased with life that we went into the town centre and he bought me a new bar of Chanel soap and took me to Tom’s Champagne Bar as well, which was truly ace and reminded me that he probably still loves me as much as he says that he does.

I love Manchester, there is so very much to see. The great ornate stone buildings are in almost every hue imaginable, deep red and glowing  amber and slate blue, and lots of them have got incredibly detailed carvings to make them beautiful, inherited from an age which must have truly gloried in such painstaking workmanship.

We loved everything, from the taxi driven by a laughing full-bearded Muslim which said Robin Hood on the roof, to the stunning gold and jewel-encrusted Academy Awards display in Kendall’s and the gorgeous fountains in St. Ann’s Square and the smells of garlic and coffee and exotic spices drifting down the streets from the little restaurants and bars and brasseries and the young men in smart suits with laptops and important-sounding conversations: it was absolutely captivating and wonderful.

We had champagne and strawberries, and the fizz went up my nose and made me giggle, and it was a double treat, because afterwards we went to see my parents, who very generously insisted on taking us out to dinner, which was brilliant, a very nice Italian restaurant at the back of the theatre. We told stories and laughed over dinner, and the waiters were friendly and really courteous without interrupting, in the way good waiters know just how to do. I had a chicken and mushroom pasta that I haven’t tried before, and half of Mark’s carrot cake, and the house wine was excellent, fruity and warm and just a bit spicy.

We enjoyed it very much indeed, and ate far too much, so much that I couldn’t even manage one of the chocolates on their coffee table in front of the fire when we got back.

It was the nicest day. In the end we decamped to the welcoming old camper van, to be just us and the dog to go to bed, and felt warm and contented and peaceful.

Maybe we should do it more often.