Saturday 21st June 2008. Juicy Lucy

Saturday 21st June 2008.

By midnight I still hadn’t decided if I was going to go to Blackpool. My greatest concern was of repercussion after calling the police on these people. Marty told me that they all had eighteen and nineteen year old boyfriends and they might be out to get him. Would Marty be hurt? Would all my windows be popped? If I went, would I be coming home to carnage?

Kez finally made the decision for me. I voiced my concerns about leaving Nicki, her daughter, in charge in case these kids came back mob handed. Kez said that she would personally take ultimate responsibility. She made sure that Marty had both her home and mobile phone numbers and promised that she’d be by the phone all night. She told Marty, at the first sign of trouble he had to ring her and she’d be there within five minutes.

I told Marty that I didn’t trust him not to have all his friends in and that I was banning him form having anybody at all in he house while I was away. I took his door key from him to give to Nicki and said that he’d have to be up and organised the following morning. As he was going to be at work all day anyway I didn’t see a problem with him being locked out for one day. He doesn’t finish until five and by then Nicki would be at home anyway.

By the time we set off for Blackpool I was feeling a lot better. Alyssa was meeting us with Tia at the train station. She was at her most friendly and charming… not, and seemed to be in a right foul mood. When we got on the train she got on with us. As a joke I asked if she was coming too.

She turned on me and glared, “Excuse me if I just see my daughter off.”

Ooh, easy tiger. Either mornings or me don’t seem to agree with the delicate constitution of our Alyssa. I got the impression that she hated the idea of her daughter going away with us for the weekend. Well in all honesty I’d rather she wasn’t coming with us too, but Russ had spoken and Alyssa and I just had to make the best of it.

When we were seated and on our way the first words out of Tia’s mouth were, “Now, Mummy says that I mustn’t spill anything on my tracksuit because it’s Juicy Couture.”

“It’s what?” I hadn’t a clue what she was going on about.

“It’s a designer tracksuit by Juicy Couture and it’s worth a hundred pounds and if anything gets spilled on it, Mummy says that Daddy will have to buy me another one.”

She flicked her perfectly designed blonde hair and pouted like a right little madam. “Oh, did she now, well you can tell mummy that she was robbed. I could find you a pink tracksuit for a tenner and still moan at the price.”

“Jane this is Ju-icy Ca-to-ur.”

“Tia, this is H-it-chens.” Russ sensing that his daughter was about to spring a gasket shot me a ‘back off’ look and then to keep the peace he turned to Tia. He didn’t call her darling or sweetheart or angel, which precedes most gentle reprimands.

“Tia, it’s not a hundred pounds tracksuit today, it’s just a tracksuit, okay.” We had both been put in our place, me with a look and her with a designer dressing down. If there’s one thing that I can’t stand it’s a snob and at ten years old I think Tia is fast becoming her mother’s daughter.

I have to say though, that right through Saturday and into Sunday morning she was as good as gold and I quite enjoyed her company. She was a little witch on Sunday afternoon, but that’s for later.

The train journey took us way past Blackpool and we had to double back on ourselves to get there via a different line. Such is the joy of rail travel. Three trains later we were there. We had a fair old walk in the rain and gale force winds to reach the tram stop that would take us to Cleaveleys. I wanted to get a taxi but Russ wouldn’t hear of it and said that it would cost a fortune in Blackpool in the middle of the season, a ten-minute journey could take ages in slow moving traffic. Because Alyssa wouldn’t deliver Tia any earlier than nine we’d already missed two hours of the open day, which began at ten and I was eager to get there. I’d dressed with care in a good pair of jeans, thirty quid ‘River Island couture’. I wore a nice top and stilettos but I had to apply my make-up all in a rush. Russ told me that the last leg of the journey between Lancaster and Preston would take an hour; this seemed odd because it’s only a few miles. In reality it took fifteen minutes and ten of those was spent making Tia happy. I pulled out my make up bag and a couple of minutes later we were pulling into Blackpool station I was still clagging myself up with mascara as the train stopped. Tia was in hysterics and as she was supposed to be holding my tiny make-up mirror still for me the results were less than perfect. I had the train jerking my hand up and down and Tia laughing her head off and jerking her hand up and down … but her jerks were not shynchronised to mine.

I wanted to make my entrance looking sophisticated and elegant. The wind blew me through the door and I staggered in dragging Tia’s nine foot suitcase behind me looking like a scarecrow made up in the theme of Alice Cooper. My feet were killing me. We had to lug this damned suitcase adorned with enormous sunflowers around with us everywhere and we were soaked to the skin. The rain was ridiculous.

The idea had been to get everybody in the garden where we would sit away the afternoon with food, drink and good company, while Martin was cosy in the knowledge that very few people would go home without some expenditure. We took our contribution of a bottle of vodka and another of coke and put it with the beer. It’s a god job we bought it because they had only catered for beer, wine and alcopop drinkers. None of those are any good to me. I said my hellos to a few people and then wandered back into the viewing rooms to see what stock Martin had in.

I was in heaven and spent some time talking to Nobby, the humongous water monitor. There were two shows scheduled for the afternoon on venomous snakes. Martin asked that people not intending to stay long be allowed to get to the front on the fist session and the rest of us could watch the second one. We ended up missing them both and I was very disappointed not to see a black mamba at close quarters. While the talk was in progress Dan had fired up the Barbie and was busy cooking food.

Russ came to me and announced that Tia was bored and hungry and that he was going to find a restaurant to get some dinner. Of course Tia had made a fuss about the snake show and we’d had to wait well out of the way of them where nothing much was happening. I explained that the food was already on the go and that she’d only have to wait a few more minutes until it was ready. I said that it would be rude to walk out when food and drink was laid on for us.

Tia began to wail, “but Daddy, I’m starving ... noooooow.”

“Okay sweetheart, okay I’ll find us somewhere to eat.”

I was fuming. We learned that the nearest pub serving grub was at least a ten minutes walk away. It was absolutely pouring down, the wind was strong enough to almost blow Tia off her feet and it was one of the most miserable fifteen minutes I’ve spent in a long time. I had no coat because back home in Btown the weather had been lovely first thing in the morning and my arms were blue with the cold.

The walk to the pub was a nightmare but I have to say, that despite being so against it, I was damned glad that we went. It was lovely and warm in there. Back at the Emp, all we had were gazebos in the back garden. At the Brewer’s Fayre we got to sit in comfy armchairs, we had a lovely carvery for three and a half pounds each and nobody rushed or hassled us. I still think Tia is spoiled rotten and if she’d been mine I’d have made her wait for a burned sausage and a soggy burger, but those two hours of drying and thawing out were bliss. I was actually dreading going back to the Emp and, even more so, back out into the rain.

When we got back Dan had been sent out to buy zip-down gazebos. We called them ‘the pods’ and three of them had sprung up in the garden. I don’t know if it was the weather, or if it would have happened anyway but I found that the group split into two very separate parties. There was the ‘in-crowd’ the young people unencumbered by children and fawning up Martin’s arse all day, and then there was us. Our pod contained the middle age plussers. We were several oldish and (in some cases) overweight women reptile keepers with our respective partners.

Now I wanted a vodka.

I was soaked to the bone, freezing cold and semi-miserable. We were in a polythene igloo that dripped, and alcohol seemed like a good idea. “But we’ve got Tia,” said Russ as though I hadn’t noticed.

I felt like saying, “Well you insisted in bringing her, you look after her.” But I contented myself with telling him that I had no intention of getting falling down drunk and that I would still be capable of entertaining a ten-year-old child.

We only stayed for about another two hours. I have to say that many kids would have been awful, but Tia was actually very well behaved. She sat quietly listening to all the chatter around her. There were about five other women in our pod and they all gave her loads of attention and she was no trouble at all. “Oh, aren’t you adorable?” said one lady.

“Yes, answered Tia, my mummy says that I’m the prettiest girl in my school.”

I winked at the lady, “We’re still working on the title of most modest,” I said. She charmed the women and Tia was happy to bask in their praise. I’d been steadily dripped on for over an hour when I hit on the idea of my ‘designer’ bin-bag dress. I cut out head and armholes and made a shift dress to go over my soaking clothes, with more bin bags and cellotape I fashioned a surprisingly warm pair of sleeves. “Oh my goodness, what are you doing?” shrieked Tia when she saw my intention. You’d have thought that I’d let one of the venomous snakes loose into the pod.

“Don’t tell me,” I said to her, “Mummy, would never be seen dead in a bin bag.”

“Never!” She looked absolutely horrified when my outfit was complete. Then she looked over at Russ with steam almost coming out of her ears and uttered the single word, “Daddy!” It amused me to bits because what that single word meant was ‘Daddy, which gutter did you pull this awful woman from and when can we return her? How can you possibly prefer this uncouth thing to my mummy.’ She didn’t say any of that, but she didn’t have to. I love winding her up.

To be honest although I think that Tia is spoiled rotten and is a terrible snob and has the table manners of a trough dweller, for the most part I like her and I think she likes me and we do get on really well. I would never, ever say anything horrible about her mother apart from in jest and Tia is very well behaved.

I snuck off to show her round the animals and pointed out to her what I intended to buy before we went home the next morning. It was our secret and bless her, although she hinted more than once, she never dobbed me in to Russ.

I decided to give the night out a miss. Nobody from our pod was going and I hadn’t really spoken to many of the ‘in-crowd’ who were. I was soaked and my feet were seriously hurting in my heels. The thought of trawling from pub to pub in Blackpool getting colder and wetter by the round didn’t appeal to me much. It was with some regret that I decided to go back to the hotel with Tia and Russ. Now here is where I’m proved wrong again. I wanted to get the cheapest B&B that we could find but because Tia was going to be with us we had to get a top hotel. As it happened this turned out very well. Tia and Russ couldn’t go to the fairground because of the weather and we ended up spending the entire evening in the hotel. They had all kinds of entertainment laid on and full gym and pools, sauna and jacuzzi’s etc. It turned out to be money well spent.

We all had hot baths and got into clean dry clothes. Then we went our separate ways. Tia wanted to go to the cinema, I didn’t. The hotel had a thirty-eight seat cinema showing kids films. I wanted to watch the cabaret that started at Seven thirty. They came back about half nine. The first act a half-decent female singer had already been on. I’d sat through half an hour of bloody bingo and the main act of the night was due to begin soon. Tia was in good spirits. She’d quickly bored of the movie and they’d ended up in the arcade room playing on games.

She didn’t like the cabaret and was soon pulling faces and stropping. It was knocking eleven and although I’d have liked to stay up for the rest of the entertainment I’d had enough too and figured the best place for us was bed.

I was first up the next morning and got washed and dressed while they were still asleep. I hadn’t bothered getting bathed because Tia wanted to go swimming. I ‘forgot’ my cossy and figured I’d got out of it … not a bit. While I’d been watching the cabaret those two had snuck off and bought me a bikini. It barely covered what it needed too and was only just the right side of decent. I certainly wouldn’t have to be too energetic about the swimming, and if I did I’d better make sure I was not on my back.

Tia has so much, and goes to so many hotels that nothing excites her. She takes everything in her stride and although she never appears ungrateful she never seems to really enjoy anything. We went down to breakfast because it was due to finish soon, it was a lovely breakfast but Tia screwed her face up at everything. I was dubious about going swimming after eating, but they weren’t going to let me off the hook that easily. Breakfast offered the works, hot and cold buffet, full English or cereal and toast. It was lovely but not really worth fifty pounds, which is pretty much what it cost.

The pool was good even though I was very self-conscious about my attire. I really enjoyed spending most of my time in the hot Jacuzzi while they played in the pool. It was gorgeous. Tia and I talked about rubbish while Russ went for a sauna. Under sixteen’s weren’t allowed in the Jacuzzi but as there were only two of us in there nobody said anything.

During the half an hour that we were in that water Tia mentioned five designers: Paul Smith, (shoes apparently,) Gucci, Charles Worthington, (hair,) Juicy Cotour and somebody else. I told her that even at my age I’d be hard pressed to name five designers. She challenged me to have a go so I began tumbling through my brain.

I’d bought Marty a copy Dolce and Gabana t-shirt in Turkey so I began with them. Then I continued with the tracksuit that I’d bought for Cain in Turkey, “Addidas, Nike,” I was on a roll, “Lacross and um…um..” Tia was in stitches.

“They aren’t fashion designers, they’re just sportswear people.” This kid lives for name dropping.

I finished with a flourish, “And for my fifth designer…George.”

“George! George,” she snorted, do you know who that is?

“I do, actually, it’s the designers for Asda.”

“Exactly.” And that was the conversation over with I’d shown my true colours and disappointed again.

I was dreading leaving the hotel, looking out of the window the weather looked less than friendly. We later found out that it was the worst weekend of the summer and the bad weather’s epicentre just happened to be in Blackpool Lancs. We went to get the tram back to the Emp and Tia’s suitcase was literally leaving the ground as we pulled it. It wasn’t raining hard but the light drizzle combined with the awful winds made walking every difficult and I didn’t even have a coat with me. I was very worried about getting the animals that I’d ordered home safely.

I thought that the Emp opened at ten on a Sunday but we were dismayed to find it all locked up. It wasn’t due to open until twelve. We had no choice but to walk almost a mile to the nearest café and hole up there until opening time.

We were the first customers through the door. The main aim of the trip had been to find a mate for Cairo. There is not a suitable aegypticus in the country but Martin had the next best thing to show me. He had in a single oscillated uromastyx. These are even harder to come by than the aegyptycus. What a stunner this guy was. He was so alert and cheeky and loved to be on a high branch to peer down on his minions. This is not usual uro behaviour as they are normally ground dwellers. His colours are beautiful, far nicer than the rather plain colours of Cairo and they will only develop further as he ages. This species of uro are smaller than their Egyptian cousins reaching only two thirds of their size but what they lack in size they make up for in colour and pattern. He’s stunning with orange and green circles all over his back.

He had caused concern though. Martin said that he was dubious about selling him because when he came in he wasn’t eating. Indeed he wasn’t in the best of condition and looked to be a bit of a skinny Jim. But the afternoon before I’d been watching him for ages and he had no problems about tucking into his salad then. In fact, he wasn’t even shy about eating in front of an audience, which is very rare. This alone made me comfortable about taking him. Even if he does go into fast, I’m confidant that it wouldn’t last long and he’d soon come out of it. I saw from the way he was eating that he loves his food.

As well as the uro I took a small female collard to eventually make up a troop with Roswell and Corona. She’s lovely, only a tiddler and far lighter than my two, but she’s in perfect health and will make pretty babies one day.

My final purchase was for a painted agama. This little girl is stunning. She looks similar to a Bearded dragon in form though far smaller, but that’s where the similarities end, she is so colourful and pretty. She literally looks like a small beardie that somebody has painted. She’s bright yellow with some orange and chocolate brown colouring.

I was very pleased with my new guys and topped them off with a display trunk for the uro to climb on. I remembered that he likes to be at the top of something looking down, and a thousand crickets. I was quite worried about getting them home as quickly as possible, especially with the cold and nasty weather. I estimated that they’d be away from heating for about two and a half hours. We left at twelve thirty.