The Croatian Myth (part 2)

Thanks to V's ability to finesse her way out of disagreeable situations, we are this weekend going unexpectedly on a mini-break to Croatia. Or, to put it another way, in order to avoid having to travel to East Anglia, dress up as clowns and entertain a hall full of small children, V lied and told Jody we were going to Split.

While I'm sure Diocletian's Palace and the Museum of Croatian Archaeological Monuments (I've been on the internet) are fabulously interesting, I am still slightly peeved that I wasn't consulted on our destination, and that V didn't say we were going to Rome or Barcelona. Plus I'm a bit skint.

We're lying in bed. V is reading The Rough Guide to Croatia from cover to cover, as she does. She reads the introduction, acknowledgements and other stuff no-one ever bothers with such as the sections on safety, culture and so on. Meanwhile, I'm staring at the ceiling, trying to imagine what Split will be like. A devilishly smart thought occurs to me.

"We don't actually have to go."

V murmurs to signify that she has heard me make a noise, but that she is too busy or uninterested to form actual words in order to answer me. I press on.

"We could just stay indoors for the whole weekend, not answer the phone. Pretend we're away. We could order the tandoori banquet from Chutneys and do West Wing Season 6. It'll be great."

"What if Jody phones our mobiles?" asks V.

"We don't answer."

"She will ring you know. She suspects I made up the mini-break on the spot to get out of helping at Molly's party."

V has a point. Jody is nearly as devious as she is, and thus knows avoidance tactics when she hears them.

"But we don't have to answer," I suggest. V sighs and shakes her head.

"We'll be on a mini-break," she says. "Everyone answers their mobile on a mini-break. And we'll be in a city, so the No Coverage Defence is not an option."

I have to defer to V's unrivalled understanding of the machinations and etiquette of the mini-break. She has spent more weekends in more cities on mainland Europe than the advancing Third Reich. She makes Judith Chalmers look agoraphobic.

She's right, of course (V, not Judith Chalmers). If we were to ignore our mobile phones for the whole of the weekend, it would be screamingly obvious to a seasoned double-dealer such as Jody that we were on a fake break.

V returns to reading up on emergency dental cover in Split. All this holiday talk reminds me of my friend Clive the Insolvent, who once told a new girlfriend that he was taking her on holiday, then revealed to her that he was in fact taking her on holiday in his living room.

Clive showed her into the room, in the middle of which sat a tent. He had moved the fridge in there and had bought a camping stove and some billy pans. Sadly, she bolted. He never did get to enjoy a weekend in his living room hideaway with his lovely girlfriend. But he did learn that getting chucked hurts a bit more when it happens on holiday, and that having a video of Koyaanisqatsi play in the background is no substitute for real scenery.

I am about to mention the story, but decide against it, as I remember V found it pathetic and indicative of Clive's general tendency towards crapness. Needless to say, I thought his idea was inventive and hilarious. Not that I'd ever pull a stunt like that on V. That would be an insanely dangerous move.

V's mobile is going. She picks up before the second ring, as always. I can hear trebly babble coming from the other end.

"Hi Jode," says V. "Yes, really looking forward to it."

V frowns.

"Oh, really?"

Then she looks a bit horrified.

"What a lovely surprise!

"That's so sweet of you, you selfless thing. I don't know what to say! Byeee."

Disconsolate, V drops the phone on to the floor. I ask what's wrong.

"That was Jody."

"What did she want?"

"She's moved it."

"Moved what?"

V turns to me. She looks like her spirit has been broken.

"She's moved Molly's party. To the following weekend. So that we can come."

An onlooker would say that V was moved close to tears by the fact that a friend would move her son's first birthday party in order that she could attend it. I know better.

V has been outmanoeuvred. She hates that.

Comments

[Teddy]

bloody hell, what a manipulator