What an exciting day. Not one but two trips to London. Firstly, a lovely wander around St Katharine Docks with Mirinda which I will post about later. Secondly a rather unexpected mercy dash.
It was 9:36pm and the phone rang. I was absorbed in the England v Egypt friendly match live from Wembley. England started playing pretty badly but, after a half time dressing down by the manager, they had scored twice and were totally dominating the game. I put the TV on mute and answered the phone.
A faint voice was on the other end. So faint I could hardly hear it. I thought an alien was trying to contact me from the rings of Saturn. Then I realised it was Mirinda, sounding like she was way down a well.
“I’ve locked myself out of the flat,” she whispered, mysteriously.
“How did you do that?” I asked, chuckling inwardly.
“That’s not important,” Came a curt response. “Can you come over with your set, please?”
“It’s 9:37,” I said, looking at the clock. “I’ll have to leave NOW!”
I hung up, put the dogs in the dining room, changed out of my pyjamas and back into my jeans & t-shirt, grabbed my bag and raced out of the house. I had to make the 10pm or I’d never make it back home. I jogged most of the way to the station, making it in a record time – less than 15 minutes.
The journey back into London was uneventful, though strangely crowded. I was first off the train, rushing to the ATM for some cash then into the first cab at the rank. The driver kindly told me the end result of the football (England won 3-1) and managed to get me to the flat in eight minutes.
I raced in and Mirinda was nowhere to be found. I looked into the flat. It was like she’d just disappeared. Or stepped out for a moment. I wondered where she was waiting and then the brilliant thought struck me. She’d be downstairs in the pool area.
I ran down the stairs, two at a time to find her sitting just inside the door, wedged open with a wet floor sign because it automatically locks at 11pm, reading. She was surprised I’d been so quick.
We went back upstairs and I let her in. She then admitted that she’d taken her washing downstairs and realised, far too late, that she’d taken the wrong keys with her. She’d had to borrow some stranger’s phone to call me, which explained why she had been so curt.
But there was little time to chat. A quick visit to the loo, a quick glass of water and I was off again.
I had to get back to Waterloo before midnight or I’d be back at the flat. I ran out into the main street and flagged down a cab. He raced across London, dropping me outside the main entrance just two minutes late for the 11:23. Damn.
I had time for a coffee before boarding the next train to Woking. The last train to Alton leaves Woking at 12:40. The train I was on was crawling along and I was frantically willing it to go faster.
As it turned out I arrived ten minutes before it left. In fact, it was sitting at the station waiting for me.
I finally arrived back home at about 1:30, exhausted. As I opened the front door I was attacked by two excited poodles. I realised I’d raced out so quickly, I’d forgotten to close the door to the dining room. They took an age to calm down.
So. Now I’m going to sleep. It’s been a big day.