May 31st, 1989

May 31st, 1989

At home

Tired tonight from last night’s night flight!

I was home early this morning and thought about going to bed for a few hours but then the phone calls started and before I knew it, dad was home from work. The three of us had dinner, after which there was much chatting, followed by more phone calls.

First person to ring this morning was Nana.


“Hello hen, how are you getting on?”

“Fine thanks Nana, I just got back from Athens.”

“Oh and how was that?” she asked.
“It was great. Two of my friends were on the trip so it was nice working with people I know.”

“Aye of course, that always makes it easier. Was it warm?”

“It was scorching but we still managed to get out and about. My friend Annabel organized a private tour for us.”

“That sounds smashing, I bet you enjoyed that.”

“I really did, it was so interesting. The guys who put the tour on were great guides and showed us so much of the city. And they were very charming.”

“Uff, don’t be telling me you’re interested in Greek boys now.”

“Actually, they were English.”

“Och, I don’t know which is worse.”

I laughed. “Nana!”

“Aye, well I’m only just getting used to you having an English boyfriend.”

“Speaking of, I’m going to see Ben soon, I can’t wait.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a nice Scottish boy in Spain.”

“Actually, Ben is working in France now.”

“Och, that’s even worse, I cannae bear the thought of you with a Frenchman.”

Oh Nana!

I was still sitting in the phone chair, smirking, when the phone rang again.


“McGarr. How the devil are you?”

“Really well, thanks Jon and to what do I owe this pleasure on a Wednesday afternoon?”

“I just heard The Proclaimers on the radio and, as you know, they always remind me of you.”

“Ugh,” I chuckled. “Will there ever be a time when you don’t associate me with two gawky Scottish guys?”


“And I thought you were my friend.”

“Always am, McGarr.”

“Yeah right.”

“So, this weekend? You coming down to see us play? Maybe we’ll do a cover version of five hundred miles just to remind you of roaming through the heather again.”

“The song is actually called I’m Gonna Be and for your information, I’ve never roamed through heather but I’m sure you have.”

“Oh, touché McGarr, nice one. Listen, if it makes you feel better, we’ll get some bagpipes and fry some haggis for you.”

I tried to contain my laughter. “I am seriously going to slap you next time I see you.”

“Promises, promises,” he sighed.

“Stop it, I’m being serious.”

He laughed. “So, this weekend?”

“Sorry, can’t.”

“That’s too bad. Where you jetting off to?”


“Spain?” he asked. “Costa del where?”

“Costa del nowhere. I’m flying into Spain but staying in France.”

“McGarr, you’re making no sense but ring me when you get back.”









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