The name's Jane Bond

First of all, the launch party was a great success, but as I'm waiting for photos to come through, I'll write about that next week.

You know you get days where nothing goes right? I had one of those on Saturday. We’d been looking forward to seeing the Man Engine for weeks, and arranged to go to St Just to see it on Saturday. Then C had to help rig the boat he’s racing in Falmouth Week. To say we were disappointed was putting it mildly.

Anyway, I met Tony, a dear friend for coffee that morning and afterwards was heading towards Penryn Bridge when I was aware of a lopsided van. Oh no, I thought (those weren’t my exact words, but you get the drift) - and pulled over to find a completely flat front tyre. I rang C who was out of signal down at the boat, so then rang Tony.

As he kindly helped me last time I had two punctures, I had great faith in him - and sure enough he put my spare tyre on so I was able to go round to the tyre place. They were busy so it was a while before they were able to fix it, and because I’d driven on it, I needed a new one rather than being able to patch up the existing one. So by the time I got home, it was too late to go and see the Man Engine.

But I was invited to a party that afternoon, then the carnival. But first I had to drop food down to the workers on the boat, so thought I’d walk round from Flushing with Moll and swim on the way.

By the time I’d delivered food and walked back, two hours had gone by and I was hot, sweaty and starving. Plus I hadn’t had time to get anything to take to the party so thought I’d nip home first. And by the time I got home, fed the animals and myself, I was shattered, and the traffic was terrible because of the carnival. So I thought, actually I’ll enjoy a quiet evening to myself.

Then C rang to say he and Al were finishing on the boat (9pm) and would take me for a drink down at the Working Boat bar (our local) when he’d got back, had something to eat and changed. So we walked down, in the rain, in the dark, to meet Al at around 10pm. I wouldn’t have gone but figured they both needed a drink and some company…

We had a glass of wine and I went off to the toilet, locked the door, when half the lock came away in my hand, leaving the other half in the door. I was locked in. As the ladies is down a corridor with two hefty doors in between the bar, there was no way anyone could hear me shout (I tried). And no one was outside because it was raining.

Never mind, I thought. I’m small - I’ll climb out the window, drop into the car park, and get back in the front. Easy. So I climbed up on the toilet seat, pushed the window wide open and crawled out, backwards. My feet slipped down - and down - in the dark. This wasn’t quite going to plan. Eventually my feet hit something firm and I stopped slithering, and crawled and pulled myself back up the wall into the car park. This all seemed a bit unreal by this time, but I dusted myself down, went into the bar where the two men were busy talking.

Stuff them I thought, though I hadn’t been gone long. So I told the manager that the ladies’ was out of action, he produced a first aid kit and patched me up a bit. I went back and sat down and C looked at me curiously. “Are you all right?” he said.

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry, or indeed what had happened (and I had only had one glass of wine). He mopped me up, while Al sang, “Sue’s stuck in the lavatory,” (lovely mates I have) and we began to laugh. Then we went outside to see where I’d climbed out. “You could have died,” said C in horror.

The shock didn’t hit me till the following afternoon, when I felt shaky, terribly dizzy and exhausted. That lasted for a couple of days, but I’m pleased to report that I am now feeling much better.

Just as well as we’re having our usual Red Arrows party tonight. But if anyone wants a Jane Bond - give me a ring…. I could do with some more work...