A Rescue Mission in the Middle of the Night, and News of an Oddly-Appropriate Name

Max and I are knackered when we finally get back from Connie's. No sooner has he said, "I am never moving Connie again," than he falls asleep. Not for long, though. The phone rings at 4:00am. Poor old Max has to join Robbie's dad in a rescue mission. Honestly, you couldn't make it up.

It turns out that the much-hyped beach "house" is actually a beach hut. Where staying overnight is prohibited. Josh and the others had unwisely dug an enormous fire pit late at night, which eventually got a bit out of control and caught the attention of the guy who supervises the car park. He went to investigate, and was wholly unamused to find eight teenage boys stacked on top of each other in the tiny hut.

Apparently most of the boys were sound asleep, despite the cramped conditions - but they weren't well-hidden, as their feet were sticking out of the doorway. The supervisor ordered them to leave immediately, but they were all far too drunk to drive. Hence the calls to the parental emergency services.

Josh seems to have sobered up a bit by the time Max brings him home, although his relief at being rescued appears to be based solely on having thus escaped from Robbie's snoring, which he says prevented him from getting any sleep.

"Join the bloody club," says Max.

"Well, it's not my fault," says Josh. "I was still awake when the supervisor arrived, but I was stuck under Jim and Robbie, and couldn't wriggle out. Otherwise, I'd have slept on the bloody beach. Robbie's snoring's almost as bad as Dad's"

"I'd shut up about my snoring, if I were you," says Max.

"Sorry, Dad - I'm just tired. It's been a stressful night."  Josh yawns, and sets both me and Max off too.

"Stressful? I think you ought to count your lucky stars I got rid of the supervisor before it got light," says Max. "If he'd seen that giant sand phallus you lot built, you'd have been in even more trouble."

"So how big was this beach house?" I ask Max.

"About six foot by six foot," says Max. "For Chrissake. They need their heads testing."

"Being so cramped made my broken arm a bit sore," says Josh - who never knows when to shut up.

"It's not broken," says Max. "Or not yet, it isn't. But it could be arranged if you ever pull any more stunts like that. I'm going back to bed."

That sounds like a damned good idea to me, too - so I follow suit, but we seem doomed not to get any sleep this weekend. As soon as we've both snuggled back down - temporarily united by our despair at Josh's latest shambolic adventure, my mobile starts beeping. I can't ignore it - not now Connie's no longer at home. It could be her. Instant panic. Now what's happened?

I blunder around looking for my glasses. It's such a drag not being able to read texts without them. When I can finally see, I realise that the text is from Dinah. Oh, the relief - but even that's only momentary. The message says,

"Oh. My. God. Guess what the Thai Bride's name is?"

"What is it now?" Max's voice is muffled by the pillow he's pulled over his head.

"Dinah," I say. "She wants us to guess what the Thai Bride's name is."

"Yung-Fuk," says Max. I text this suggestion to Dinah.

"It's a great guess, but it's not the one," she replies. "Was that one of Max's? Try again." Who does she think she is? Bloody Roy Walker?

"Dinah, I can't be bothered with playing Catchphrase. It's the middle of the night. Just TELL ME!"

"Porn!" is her reply. "Though you probably don't spell it exactly like that."

Christ almighty. I'm about to tell Max, when he lets out an enormous snore. It's like a flashback. I've had quite enough of that this week. In fact, I've had quite enough of this week, full stop.

A Highly-Incompetent Ninja Pays The Price.

Oh, great. Max and I go into town, more for a wander than to shop, as we are broke until payday. We leave Connie and Josh at home, arguing desultorily about whether university is a waste of time.

Max says that maybe we should try and arrange something for next weekend, and suggests we ask David and Susie if we can borrow their holiday cottage. Just the two of us. I have no idea what brought this on, but I'm thrilled - especially as it is entirely Max's own idea, and not the result of furious hinting.

If anything is likely to result in sex, this is it. Being twenty miles away from the kids would mean there'd be no possibility of being interrupted by one of them wanting us to rule on a stupid argument.

"Phone David now," I say. "Quick, before you change your mind!"

"Why would I change my mind?" says Max.

"Oh, I don't know. But something always crops up and then we end up doing nothing," I say. Max gives me a hug and picks up his phone.

David and Susie must be out on the razzle somewhere, as David's phone goes straight to answerphone. Max is about to hang up, but after a lot of nudging from me, he leaves a message asking if we can borrow the house. Yaay! I am so happy I am almost skipping as we start to make our way home. When we come out on the other side of the underpass, Max's phone rings. God, can that be David, already?

"You what?" says Max. There is a barely discernable note of panic in his voice. "He's done what?"

I stick my head up close to his, and can just make out Connie's voice - which is pitched rather higher than usual.

"Well, don't move him," says Max. "We're almost home." He breaks into a run. I follow suit - but he's too fast for me. When I get inside the house, Josh is lying on the floor, half inside the living room and half in the hall. He looks distinctly green, and is uncharacteristically quiet. Max is examining him.

"So what happened, Con?" he says.

"He was getting really stroppy about students, so I told him to piss off and leave me alone," says Connie.

"And?" Max is not looking amused.

"Well, he wouldn't." Connie's chin is sticking out - as it always does when she feels under attack.

"You thumped me," says Josh. (Thank God for that - at least he's capable of speech.)

"Not hard! And anyway, it was your bloody fault what happened." Connie is furious.

"Look," says Max, in a very uncharacteristically assertive way, "Josh's arm is blue - so we need to get him to A&E. I'll get the car."

As he heads for the door, I say, "What d'you think he's done?"

"I think he could have broken his arm and the bone might be cutting into his blood supply."

"Oh Christ," I say, and sit down on the stairs.

"Get his coat and a blanket, and I'll bring the car round," says Max. "And you can stay here while I take him to the hospital. You'll just wind him up if you come, 'cause you look so damned worried."

Gah. I deal with stressful situations every day of the week - why does my husband think I am useless in an emergency?

"I'm coming," I say. "Connie, you can cook dinner while we're gone. I'll phone you when we know what's wrong."

I'm not sure, but I could swear Connie says, "Serves him right," as Max and I manhandle Josh to the car.

We wait for hours in A&E. Josh perks up a bit while he's waiting, but he won't tell us any more about what happened. He sits there muttering,

"Connie's just so f*cking annoying."

He finally gets to see a doctor, who orders an X-Ray, but not before he has asked Josh to explain how the accident happened. Max and I look at him expectantly. Josh says nothing, and just hangs his head.

"Go on, tell him," says Max. "We're all waiting to hear this."

"Well, it's my sister, you see," Josh says to the doctor. "She's just really, really annoying."

"And?" says the doctor.

"She wanted me to go away, so she thumped me."

"What - hard enough to break your arm?" says the doctor. "What is she, some sort of prize-fighter?"

"No-o," says Josh. "I tried to kick her back -"

"Ah," says Max. "What sort of kick, exactly?"

"Well, a roundhouse kick, of course," says Josh, the family ninja.

"So why are you here in A&E with a possibly broken arm, when you were the one who kicked your sister?" says the doctor.

"I missed," says Josh. Very quietly. I'll give the doctor his due, he didn't laugh out loud. Though I'm pretty sure he sniggered.


We finally get home really late. Josh's arm is in a sling to support it. It's not broken, but very badly bruised. The doctor says he has probably temporarily damaged some of the nerves and the blood vessels have been affected, hence the attractive blue colour. Connie gives him a big hug, which makes him wince, and then she says,

"How did you tell them you did it, bro?"

"Told 'em I bloody well kicked you," says Josh.

"And that you missed and fell over - onto your own arm?" says Connie. She's enjoying this far too much - but then so am I.

"I suppose so," says Josh. "Now can you get me a drink? You're going to have to wait on me until my arm's better. I'd better phone you on my mobile whenever I need something."

That wipes the smile off Connie's face pretty effectively. And mine, once it occurs to me that we can't possibly leave these two alone while we have a dirty weekend. They'd probably murder each other, through incompetence, if nothing else. Bang goes my chance of rejuvenating my sex-life. I do wish I'd seen Josh's flying kick, though. Funniest thing that's happened all week.