A table for 13, please

The following series of emails is based on my husband Chris’s attempt to organise a festive get-together with his side of the family in Lincolnshire. Some paragraphs are real, others fictional. The senders and recipients are Chris, his Uncle Bob (former owner of a chain of restaurants, now retired) and Chris’s sister Jenny, a nurse. Names of places and characters have been changed. Except Chris, that is.

To all. From Chris:

Howdy all.

After hours of strenuous internet research, I can happily confirm that I’ve booked McDonalds for 12:30pm on Saturday 8th Dec. Only joking. I’ve booked The Castle on Duke Street, see attached map. It has a private room that can squeeze in all 13 of us, just to please you, Bob.

Jenny, I’ve reserved a highchair for Olivia. Bob, will you and yours be arriving by helicopter? If so, please warn them in advance so they can reserve a spot on their helipad:-)

They’ve asked that we order food one week in advance – see attached menus. As Mum probably won’t want anything fancy I’ve posted her a kids’ menu.

Chris

To all. From Bob:

Chris, many thanks for making all these arrangements – we do appreciate it.

I have a confession to make.

Having looked up on tinternet how to get to The Castle, I noted that 20% of the respondents to TripAdvisor.com rated it Poor or Terrible. So, I phoned The Castle to get a feel for the place, and was given a 10-minute fire and brimstone diatribe by the owner on how they have 1,000 customers a week and no one ever complains. Oh, and “all customers are self-abusers”.

Frankly if I were a Lincolnite and had the inclination to complain, I’d think twice too given that Attila the Hun is the gatekeeper. Anyway I took matters even further (OH NO I can hear Chris exclaim), yes, I’m your Uncle and I reserve the right to be bonkers. So I emailed the owner – Margaret – and I explained to her how she can respond to her critics if she feels that the criticism is unfounded.

I have to say, one in five can’t be that wrong – however, she didn’t reply and I can only assume that given she’s a geriatric exhibitionist who apparently loves to prance around behind the bar, she hasn’t got time for technology. Unfortunately she’s probably worked out when we’re coming now, as you CC’d me on the booking emails, so maybe she’s instructed the chef to goz in my plum pudding and fart into my wine glass. So, all in all it should make for a very eventful occasion, which I for one am looking forward to.

If this has made anyone remotely nervous I apologise in advance – and no we shouldn’t change the venue because it’ll be a hoot. Tell Tash it’ll make great fodder for her next book.

All will be revealed…

Mischievous and obdurate,

Uncle Bob of Bobbington Heights

To all. From Chris:
Right… Nice one, Bob. I suggest we move to Plan B. (Actually this would be Plan H, as I already crossed off several plans before submitting Plan A to all of you lot and I don’t have time to start the search for the perfect restaurant all over again as I’m two men down at work this week and up to my neck.)

So Plan B, if Jenny’s ok with it, would be for us all to meet at hers instead. We can all bring a dish with us, and a dessert, and have a buffet. The kids can run riot, we get to chat properly and we can all muck in with the cooking and washing up. It’s cheaper and we won’t get kicked out at 4pm. Well, we might…

And we won’t have a chef wanking into our rice pudding. What do you think, Jen?

Chris.

To all. From Jenny:

No pressure then.

Can anyone recommend a crack team of industrial cleaners to come and blitz my house so it meets with Uncle Bob’s standards? And by the way, we’ve got a new dog called Biffy who likes to hump everyone. Oh, and our loo doesn’t flush anything other than wee. Other than that, you’re all welcome.

Bring some chairs. About 6? Uncle Bob, you can sit on the recycling bin.

To all. From Bob:

Great response – you’re on fire my peachy little niecey-nephlings. This sounds like the best option. At least we won’t find a cock ring in the guacamole.

Now listen you lot, I’m quite happy to run the gauntlet with Atilla the Hun and see what unfolds. But Jen-Jen (I can just see you with folded arms and tapping foot giving me a withering side-long glance), if you’re happy to have us, we’re happy to come. Your house is lovely, and I’m not averse to some mess. After all, you have young kiddiwinks and we’ve all been there. I’ll make sure our lot empty their bowels before we descend upon you.

To make life easier for everyone I’ll draw up a spreadsheet of what food each team should bring. In the meantime, let’s move on to presents. Who wants what? Or shall we ditch the idea and just buy each other goats in Africa? Although Jen, I’ve just thought of the perfect present for you: an inflatable pink poodle. There, that’s one problem solved.

See you all on the 8th,, squadron.

Lord Bob of Bobsworth Manor

To all. From Jenny:

If you want to get me a present you can chip in with our kitchen extension fund. That way I can fit you all in.

Bring booze.

And no you can’t stay the night.

See you on the 8th.

To all. From Chris:

Sorry, I missed the last round of emails. Can someone bring me up to date? There’s a message from Margaret at The Castle on my voicemail asking if I can give her a call. I’m too scared. You do it Bob.

To all. From Bob:

With pleasure my little Chrissie-whissie. Can’t get enough of Margaret the Hun.

To all. From Jenny:

Bring crisps.

And Valium.

To all. From Margaret@TheCastle:

I suggest you bunch of morons all learn how to use the CC facility properly. In the meantime, you’re all banned from my restaurant from now until hell freezes over. Set foot in the door and you can expect a proper Attila the Hun welcome.

Good riddance.

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It’s here at last! Introducing my new book, Pearls

I’m very excited to announce that my new book, Pearls, is finished at last and available to buy on Amazon for a fraction more than a cappuccino.

Pearls is a bit different from my previous two novels, Package Deal and Hot Property. There are less characters for a start, and the story is less of a comedy and more of a drama (though peppered with a good dose of humour, I hope). And rather than being set in sun-drenched Greece, it’s set here in the UK, in the middle of winter, in Brighton, London, and the Devonshire countryside.

In a nutshell, Pearls is about three very different women struggling to overcome their demons. One stormy weekend their paths all cross and an unexpected situation brings them together… and changes the course of their lives.

Sound like your cup of tea so far? Here’s the back cover blurb…

For career-driven Kate Burrows, life is pretty much perfect: great job, fab flat and a gorgeous guy to share it all with. With every box on her checklist ticked, Kate thinks she’s happily in control of her own destiny… until the troubled past she’s tried so hard to suppress threatens to sabotage everything she holds dear.

Stuck in a rut of useless boyfriends and growing debt, odd-jobber Charlie Hanford desperately wants a new life, but self-doubt holds her back. Then one day Charlie gets a job cleaning a stylish seafront-flat in Brighton…

Meanwhile, B&B owner Miriam Greene’s only wish is to put the past behind her once and for all. For, despite her transformation – from alcoholic train wreck to teetotal meditation teacher – Miriam has yet to gain the forgiveness of her daughter.

Charlie dusts and hoovers, envying the life she glimpses once a week. But when she discovers one of her employer’s unwanted birthday presents – a basket of handwritten mantras – fate brings the three women together.

As Pearls is brand new to Amazon, it could really do with some reviews recommending it (or not!) to others. So if you enjoy it and feel inclined, please help nudge Pearls in the right direction and give it a quick thumbs up on Amazon. Thanks!