The Misadventures of a Playground Mother (14 page)

At last, we could check-in ourselves. All the children were being very well behaved considering all the commotion that had surrounded them in the previous hour. Matt, handing over our tickets and passports to the patient operator, explained that our seats had already been allocated online. The check-in assistant behind the desk scrutinised our passports and tickets, and began to tap furiously on the keyboard in front of her. Looking troubled, she peered up from the computer screen. 'There has been a request for your seats to be moved Sir,' she said to Matt.

‘I think you may find there has been a mistake, a computer error maybe? We have categorically not requested to move seats; we secured the front row with the extra leg room, all booked in online,' Matt responded calmly.

‘Hang on, there is note that has been logged onto the system,' the assistant explained. ‘A lady called Penelope Kensington telephoned this morning to request that your seats be repositioned next to theirs due to the families travelling together, is that correct Sir?'

I could only imagine what Matt was thinking. Fuming, he swivelled around and stared directly at Penelope, waiting for her to explain.

Penelope fidgeting before us on her hooker heels and spandex dress looked like no lady to me. Reaching into her handbag, she pulled out a huge pair of dark sunglasses, placed them on her head and pulled them down over her eyes. Now she looked like a hooker who was possibly seeking to hide two black eyes. Stuttering, she tried to explain herself, embarrassed that the note logged onto the computer system, particularly after she had insisted to the airline assistant not to make a record of her name had uncovered her plan.

Matt looked at his watch impatiently, as if to suggest we didn't have all day to wait for her explanation. I was too livid to speak to her; how presumptuous and underhand was that to change our seats without checking with us first? The cheek of the woman!

Managing to keep control of the situation, I turned back to the woman at the desk and spoke calmly but directly, ‘That is not correct. We will be keeping our original seats, thank you.'

Rupert was clearly taken aback, not knowing where to look or what to do. He inhaled deeply then whispered behind us, ‘I'm really sorry, so sorry, I don't know what to say, I didn't know anything about this.'

The check-in assistant gathered all the passports back together and handed them over the counter to Matt. The frequent flyer loyalty card caught her eye as it dropped onto the counter. She picked it up immediately.

‘Sir, does this card belong to you? Why didn't you say, Sir? This card entitles you and your family to premium economy; on behalf of the airline, we would be delighted to upgrade your ticket; you'll get extensive legroom, champagne, free drinks, and individual television screens.'

The children let out excited screams while Matt thanked the long-suffering check-in assistant. Clutching our upgraded boarding passes as if our lives depended on them, we spun round to view Penelope's bruised jaw bouncing off the floor in complete astonishment.

I couldn't wait to be seated at opposite ends of the plane for our two hour flight, and to stretch out my legs before me while sipping champagne; this was the life. We certainly needed the time to recover and recharge our batteries from all the drama Penelope had thrown our way in the last hour.

Rushing through security there was now very little time to grab a drink or make a last toilet stop. Penelope, sulky and mortified at being rumbled, tottered reluctantly behind me.

Rushing into WH Smith, I snatched a basket and threw in a couple of bottles of water, bags of crisps and the latest celebrity magazines. Little Jonny and Annabel were hot on Penelope's heels and halted dutifully right in front of the pick ‘n' mix.

After filling her own basket with magazines, chocolate and drinks, Penelope succumbed to their demands. 'What would we do without kids?' she laughed trying to clear the air after passing each of them a red striped paper bag to load up to the top with sugary treats.

‘Actually, without kids I would be sunning myself on a beach in Barbados with a beer in my hand,' I replied – and not about to embark on a holiday with the Kensington family, I thought in my head, letting her into the queue in front of me. I checked my watch. We had only had minutes to spare; we needed to get our bums on those seats in less than two minutes.

Penelope placed her basket next to the till. ‘Throw me in a packet of fags and one of those scratch cards for good measure,' she said pointing at the roll of cards behind the plastic Perspex at the side of the till.

Tearing off a scratch card and grabbing a packet of fags the shop assistant placed the bulging carrier bag on top of the counter, and held out his hand. The bill came to twenty-five pounds. Which was when Penelope suddenly realised that Rupert, who had been minding her handbag while she nipped off to change her vomit-stained clothes, had already gone on ahead and boarded the plane with her handbag in tow. She had no means to pay for the items.

Handing over fifty pounds in cash to the waiting cashier, which was enough to cover both our purchases, I requested he tear me off a scratch card too. Then suddenly, we heard the final call over the tannoy, requesting all passengers on flight 290 to make their way to gate 14 immediately. As we hurried to the departure gate, I handed Penelope her scratch card and fags along with the receipt for her goods. Hopefully, she would remember to pay me back some time soon.

Oh my! The premium economy seating was the bomb; maybe that wasn't a statement I should have voiced aloud on a plane but there was no other word for it. Eva, Samuel and Matilda sat patiently waiting for the captain to fire up the engines for take-off so they could plug themselves into their individual television screens, munch on their freebies and enjoy a film of their choice. Matt sat Daisy on his knee and looped her baby seatbelt through his. He was smiling from ear to ear. I settled into my seat and stretched out my legs in the vast space before me.

The smiley airhostess was preparing the cabin for take-off, greeting her passengers while checking all seat belts were securely fastened and closing the overhead lockers.

Reaching down to retrieve my magazines, I realised I was still had Penelope's carrier bag of goodies, which I had taken off her so she wouldn't break her neck running for the plane on those killer heels.. I unclicked my seatbelt and quickly made my way up through the curtained-off area in search of Penelope. I heard her before I saw her; she was sounding a little stressed. ‘Annabel will you sit down and be quiet! I won't tell you again, Rachel has your sweets and they won't let me through to her cabin. Little Jonny you cannot sit by the window, that is not your seat; I don't want to hear another word from you either, sit down in your proper seat, now.'

‘But I want a window seat,' Little Jonny persisted.

‘Here they are!' I said, all for family harmony, and hoping to diffuse the situation. I pulled out the red stripy paper bags full of sweets and handing them quickly to Little Jonny and Annabel. ‘And Penelope, here are your magazines and the rest of your stuff.' I handed the carrier bag over to her.

I was called back to my seat, and Penelope, staring in disgust at an exceptionally unattractive couple sitting nearby, forgot her manners and failed to thank me for re-uniting her with her goodies – goodies she hadn't even paid for. I was relieved to be leaving cattle class and went quickly back to Matt. I was looking forward to my glass of champagne.

T
he next two
hours were not only peaceful but joyful; exhausted from the last couple of hours my feet were well and truly up. – Relaxing, sipping flutes of the fizzy stuff and reading the magazines before me, I was the lucky one. Matt and Daisy had drifted off to sleep Matt didn't have any alcohol during the flight because I had already designated him driver at the other end. Eva, Samuel and Matilda were passing the time watching a film.

Doesn't time fly when you are having fun! Before we knew it we had landed, had trundled through passport control – staggered in my case – and now were waiting by the car hire desk for Penelope and Rupert join us. Everyone was in good spirits; the children were chilled, Matt was refreshed and I was a little tipsy from drinking champagne mid-morning – but I was on my holidays and something told me that only alcohol was going to help me survive this holiday.

The Kensingtons lugging their cases behind them, and heading towards us, didn't look chilled at all.

‘Good flight?' Matt asked, innocently.

Penelope and Rupert both glared at him.

Rescuing the situation, I took control. ‘Let's get the car, collect the keys, and before we know it we will be settled at the villa sunning ourselves. Do you have your paperwork handy Rupert?'

Penelope and Rupert, changing their glare to a puzzled stare, replied at the same time, ‘What do you mean?'

'Your car hire car voucher, Rupert, and you will need your driving licence as well.' I said.

Hesitantly Penelope replied, ‘we don't know what you mean; we haven't booked a car we just thought we would share yours.'

Sobering up immediately, it was now Matt's and my turn to stare at each other. I knew exactly what he was thinking and he knew exactly what I was thinking. With a family of six, of us how could they even think it was possible to share our car? What were we going to do – strap them to the roof? We would need to hire a bus! Judging by the thunderous look on Matt's face, he wasn't by any stretch of the imagination amused. I knew what was coming next, the feeling flooding the pit of my stomach – that gut feeling that was always right.

‘Neither of us has brought our driving licenses, Penelope stated meekly, now nervously shuffling from one killer heel to the other.

'They have got to be joking,' I muttered under my breath to Matt.

Matt and I had been well and truly stitched up like a pair of kippers. Not only were we providing a free holiday for the Kensingtons, but now they expected Matt to be their taxi driver for the fortnight as well which could only mean one thing – we were going nowhere without them.

Matt, keeping his cool by the skin of his teeth, handed over the voucher along with his driving license to the woman swinging on her chair behind the desk. Carefully explaining the situation, he enquired to whether it was possible we could upgrade our vehicle to accommodate both families. The woman who was not Spanish and was called Jenny according her name badge, pulled down her spectacles, perched them on the end of her nose and looked at us.

After a few taps on the keyboard she said, ‘You are very fortunate Sir, we don't normally supply ten-seat vehicles, but our manager has one, and your booking coincides with his two-week holiday. He's a bit of a surf dude and travelled this morning to Hawaii to surf, only this morning to catch some waves. He's left his vehicle in the pound and for an extra £200 we can upgrade you and your party for your two-week holiday.' She thrust the card machine towards Matt, and we both moved aside automatically thinking Rupert would kindly offer to pay. How wrong could we get? Rupert wasn't forthcoming at all. He had suddenly became more interested in fiddling with his sunglasses and was clearly not about to stick his hand in his pocket.

A disgruntled Matt produced his credit card from his wallet and plunged it into the card machine.

Keys in hand, we trailed outside into the car park. The heat from the sun beating down hit us instantly and lifted everyone's mood. Scanning the number on the key ring, we began to search the car park to identify our vehicle.

‘Here it is, here it is,' came the cries from the excited children.

Gazing at the sight in front of us we could only imagine the car hire woman must have allocated us the wrong vehicle. There parked before us was not a car but an oversized van; not just any van, but a florescent blue, green and orange van with psychedelic flowers painted on the wheel trims. All that was missing was the bold orange type that read ‘The Mystery Machine'.

‘I am not getting into that thing,' said Penelope indignantly.

She had an absolute cheek; they hadn't even offered to pay for any transportation.

Pulling on the door handles, the kids revealed the equally as bright interior. The van was kitted out with orange leather seats, one could only assume they weren't real leather but there were ten of them all the same. It appeared there was no room for any of the luggage; the cases needed to be strapped onto the silver metal brackets welded to the top of the roof. Once the blokes secured the cases on the roof rack, Rupert winched Penelope into the van and we were all off on our thirty- minute journey to the villa.

There's no place like home, there's no place like home were the thoughts filtering through my mind as Matt pulled the car on to the drive of our property. I loved it there; it was so tranquil – a place of pure relaxation. The villa, perched on top of a hill with a beautiful pink clematis clambering up over the stonewalls, faced the inviting azure waters of the Mediterranean.

As soon as Matt switched off the engine, the children were out and running around outside the villa. I unstrapped Daisy, who was still dozing, from her car seat and carried her.

The view was breathtakingly beautiful. . However, when I turned round to close the van doors, Penelope, giving the impression she was hacked off, rudely began whispering in Rupert's ear. He seemed uncomfortable and shot her a ‘wind your neck in' kind of look.

‘How the heck have you afforded this?' were the first words to leave Penelope's mouth. There was no ‘Oh my, what a beautiful house' or ‘Wow, look at that fantastic view. I couldn't believe her reaction and it was a question that wasn't going to be answered. Penelope was jealous, quite simply jealous. Matt, raised his eyebrows at me, and came up with the best suggestion yet. ‘Let's nip to the shops, load up with food, ice-cream' – which got numerous amounts of cheers from the kids – ‘and beer for the evening and then we can sit and relax around the pool.'

That sounded like an excellent plan to me and once the Kensington's suitcases were deposited in the hallway, I strapped Daisy back in her seat, and we all clambered into the van – all except Penelope that is.

‘Do you mind if I stay here? I'm feeling slightly nauseous and a little tired from the journey, I could benefit from a lie down. Rupert are you OK to go and take the children?' she said, swooping her hand up to forehead like an actress that was about to faint.

What could poor Rupert say? He too had been up since some stupid o'clock due to Penelope's obsession with the seating arrangements; he wanted nothing more than to place his feet in his flip-flops and sink a beer.

All the children were beginning to flag a little now; they too were tired and hungry and so was I. Every muscle in my body was tired and I made a mental note to nip to the doctor on my return to check my iron levels.

Hurrying along in the supermarket, we soon had two trolleys loaded up with food and drink for the next couple of days. At the checkout, Rupert's behaviour turned a little strange. After emptying the contents of the trolley onto the conveyor belt, he artfully moved away from the shopping, and stood completely out of the way. I knew exactly what he was up to. Narked, I whispered sarcastically to Matt,
‘
The
I've forgotten my wallet
routine springs to mind,''

I started to compile a list of items the Kensington's had not paid for: the holiday itself, goodies at the airport, car hire and now the bloody weekly shop; where was it going to end?

Rupert went in search of a toilet just as the cashier rang up the final total and only appeared again after it had all been packed into carrier bags and loaded into the van.

Everyone was certainly ready for lunch when we returned. We each grabbed a bag from the van trundling back until all the shopping had been placed on top of the table in the kitchen.

Matt, tapped me on my shoulder and nodded his head in the direction of the pool. Not believing my eyes, I thought Joan Collins must have rented the villa off us for the fortnight; there was Penelope not only wearing an oversized floppy hat, linen sundress, and huge designer sunglasses, but also she was dripping in jewellery, sunning herself on my sunbed while us mere mortals traipsed around purchasing and preparing food for the day.

It was only a few hours into the holiday and already I was feeling frazzled.

I carved up the freshly baked bread and laid the table with numerous cheeses, pickles and cold meats. Placing a jug of water onto the table, I went into my bedroom to freshen up, only to find that Penelope had already secured our very own bedroom. Indignantly shouting to Matt to come here, who appeared next to me in no time at all and we gazed at the sight in the room. Considering Penelope hadn't felt at all well, she'd certainly been busy emptying all her suitcases and replacing my clothes with hers in the master bedroom. The en-suite bathroom was laid out with all her lotions and potions and her sexy new nightie lay out on top of the bed.

‘She is taking the piss,' I huffed.

It wasn't in the slightest Matt's fault but I was more than livid now. The villa wasn't even short of space, there were numerous double bedrooms along the hallway – six to be precise – all with crisp white fresh Egyptian cotton sheets on the beds, and all with their own assigned bathrooms. But no, she had nabbed our room with its view over the sea.

I found the room that Penelope had dumped all our clothes in, and scooping up all the garments she had tossed on the bed, I stamped my way back down the hallway, juggling with the clothes in my arms, and kicked MY bedroom door open with my foot. I was just about to fling the clothes on top of the bed and remove Penelope's clothes from my wardrobe, when I couldn't believe my eyes. This was no Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, I wanted to growl like the bear in Goldilocks, ‘who's that sleeping in my bed', as resting under my covers with her eyes firmly shut lay Penelope who skipping lunch, had taken herself off for an afternoon siesta in my bed.

Matt was quick on my heels ushering me out of the room before my hands found my way around Penelope's neck. Kindly taking some of the clothes out of my hands and placing them back onto the guest bed, he gave me a hearty cuddle, and then placing a cool bottle of beer in my hand, he persuaded me to join him at the pool. I swigged my beer, took some deep breaths, changed into my new bikini, and went out to join Matt. Scraping the sunbed along the tiles I swivelled it to face of the sun, relieved that Penelope was nowhere in sight. The pool was alive with splashing excited children enjoying the water. Daisy lay kicking her legs with various toys inside a playpen that Matt had set up in the shade.

Then a shadow cast over my sunbed. I slid my sunglasses to the top of my head, and squinted in the sunshine. Transfixed I gazed at by the sight in front of me, like a scene out of James Bond, he was swaggering up to the deep blue water's edge. Rupert Bond was wearing nothing but a pair of budgie smugglers. His skin-tight speedos left nothing to the imagination, his dark hairy legs looked more like a scene from King Kong but there was nothing King or Kong about Rupert and he was certainly no Daniel Craig. Noticing he didn't have a six pack, more like cheap beer from an off-licence, he'd certainly let his physique slide whilst he had shared cosy lunch- time rendezvous with the woman with the posh car. An eyebrow raised once again, I exchanged glances with Matt who was keeping a watchful eye on the children

I jigged my sunglasses back over my eyes, sank down into the comfortable cushions of the sunbed, and drifted off to sleep in no time at all.