It has got very late, and I have not started writing in here.
Mostly this is because I have had a dull sort of day, so much like yesterday that I am finding it difficult to think what could be said about it, but also, a little bit, it is because I have been watching what I think must be the last episode of the John Lanchester serial on Netflix. I have been doing this because the taxi driver in the next taxi, who I do not know very well, is having an urgently personal conversation with a lady on the telephone, which is coming through his car radio.
It is far too personal for me to hear, and I am valiantly trying not to listen.
Interlude there.
It is now half past three in the morning, I have written nothing, and I have had a very horrible adventure in the meantime.
I took a chap to Ambleside. When we got there he explained that he didn’t have enough money, but he really wanted to go to Grasmere, which as you probably don’t know, is about twelve quid further on.
I listened patiently, and it was raining, so in the end I agreed, since he worked at a smart and reputable hotel, that in exchange for his phone number and contact details, I would take him to Grasmere and he would pay the next day.
Halfway to Grasmere clearly he regretted having been so free with his personal information, and started to be unpleasant. He said I was overcharging him and that he was going to report me to the council for being a wicked thief.
I do not need to put up with this sort of thing, so I pulled over and told him to get out, which he refused to do.
I said that he could either get out or come back to Windermere with me, and when he still refused, I turned round and set off back.
A scuffle ensued, the sort that involves the passenger grabbing the steering wheel and gearstick, etc. In the end he grabbed the keys, and I had to brake hard, because the car swerved.
I tried to get them off him, without success, and he threw them into the boot.
When I went to retrieve them he got out and ran away.
I would have left the whole affair there, until a few minutes later my phone started making the frantic dinging noise that lets me know it has lost its friend my iPad.
He had taken it.
I stopped and called the police.
They said they would look into it in a couple of hours.
I did not want to wait that long, so I turned around and went to find him.
I found him walking along a dark road in Grasmere.
There was another scuffle, this time nasty, but I retrieved my iPad. Then, however, he shoved me out of the way, grabbed the taxi keys out of the ignition, and hurled them off into the darkness.
I looked for them to no avail. When the police turned up, they looked as well, but without success.
Jack came out in the middle of the night with my spare set. He had to get out of bed. He was very polite about this.
We went home, and then police called me to say they had caught him, and checked him to see if he had the keys in his pockets, but he didn’t, so I went back to Grasmere, and spent another hour hunting for them. I took the dogs, which they thought was exciting, and Rosie found something thrilling in somebody’s dustbin, but it wasn’t my keys.
I am cross. The police said that perhaps somebody would find them tomorrow, but I am not holding my breath.
I am going to bed whilst there is still some night left.
Don’t go and stay at the Rothay Garden Hotel. Their staff are not to be trusted.
