I am sitting in a lay-by in Yorkshire disguised as a member of the middle classes.
I have been drinking, and hence am indifferent both to the length and the content of tonight’s entry, I have had a lovely, lovely evening, and am feeling warm and happy. I want to go to bed so much that I am selling you short. It is a hastily written account of the day’s events so that I do not miss it and make you wonder if I have died. I am not even going to bother revising this for purposes of quality control. It is for Information Only, and then I am going to bed.
It has been a busy twenty four hours, I can tell you.
The rain sheeted down on Windermere last night, and at about three in the morning Number Two Daughter was assaulted by a customer.
Her wicked assailant was a very drunk Eastern European girl who said a lot of very unpleasant things, and then compounded this by not wishing either to pay or to get out of the taxi.
Number Two Daughter stopped and insisted that she depart. The customer expressed a preference for remaining in the taxi and being taken home, despite her lack of capital to finance this venture.
When Number Two Daughter came round and opened the passenger door to facilitate her exit, the girl became upset, and expressed this by attacking Number Two Daughter with Tooth And Claw. Mostly claws, really, Number Two Daughter has got massive scratches and gouges all over her face, and patches of hair missing.
Taxi drivers are not supposed to fight back, it makes the local authority suspend your licence whilst they investigate.
Fortunately one of the local bouncers was running home from work in the fire-hose rain. This unlikely activity at three in the morning was because he is trying to get in the Army. He lives absolutely miles away, he will fit into the Army nicely.
He dragged the customer off.
I got there before the police did, and made soothing noises and admired the blood. The police locked the customer up, and Number Two Daughter said that she would like to request capital punishment. Then I had to get back to the nightclub before it closed.
The police went off duty then, and the newly on duty one turned up at our house at ten in the morning to get a statement. Number Two Daughter did not mind this, because she wanted to get it out of the way before her rugby match in the afternoon. It turned out that the policeman had come early because his daughter is on the same rugby team and he also wanted to get it out of the way before the rugby match in the afternoon.
Mark swept the chimney, since we were up, and I baked biscuits, since we have eaten them all.
Some other police who were not at the rugby match rang to say that they were going to let the customer off with a caution because she was sorry.
I said that we would still prefer capital punishment, pour encourager les autres, but they thought that the CPS were unlikely to choose this option.
Then we packed the camper van and set off for Yorkshire, and for the school performance of Zadoc The Priest.
Number Two Daughter’s employer rang the restaurant where the drunk customer works to demand that she be dismissed without a character. They said that they would think about it.
It is nice living in a small town.
Zadoc The Priest was ace, quietly old fashioned in the beautiful chapel. The music teacher formally explained to the headmaster that these were the boys who would henceforth lead the worship, and the headmaster gravely agreed that he would accept them. We all bellowed out the hymns, and Oliver waggled his eyebrows at us from the choir stalls, and came rushing downstairs afterwards in his pyjamas to see us properly.
The headmaster had thoughtfully provided wine, and we all sat in the study to talk. It was ace to see Oliver, and hard to release him to bed when the bell went, although afterwards Mark and I went into Bedale where we found an Indian restaurant.
We should not have done this because of not having any money, but it was lovely anyway.
Then we parked in a lay-by which is where we are now.
I have written enough. The picture is taken from the school Scholars board. He is very proud of it.
