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An eerie silence has descended on the house. Nothing moves, just the rhythmical breathing of 9 cats who collectively returned to the armchairs in the lounge as soon the gates closed.

Mal has taken the family back to the airport having shoehorned them all into the car complete with missing and found toys, hojaldre pastry, a tea set and a gallon of whisky to restock Pam before Brexit reinstates both the amounts of duty free you can take back and probably smuggling off the Cornish coasts.

This reminds me of the time we were collared by the customs on one of the many trips back to England.

We had our luggage searched and they found a quantity of baccy for rolling that Mal had for someone, can’t remember who.  We were not sure what you were allowed to have so when Mal was asked who it was for, said it was for personal use.....

 “Would you mind rolling one for us,” they asked. By now Mal was digging a hole, jumping in and patting the soil on top of his head.

“Unfortunately my rolling gear is in England” Mal replied. Quick thinking, I thought. As quick as a flash the customs guy produced a paper and filter and gave them to Mal. By now I was shovelling soil on top of the pile as the look on Mal’s face was worrying. He took the offered paper and filter and began rolling, his hands were shaking and it’s a wonder most of it wasn’t on the floor. Eventually he produced a strange looking ciggie with frayed bits around the edges, licked the edge of the paper and realised ......... it was inside out and there was no glue........ the customs officer was nearly wetting himself...... he produced his best smirk, gathered up up the evidence and left us to stew. We’re doomed, I thought.

After a while he returned and told us the 6 packs of baccy we had didn’t make us number 1 smugglers and it wasn’t worth their while filling out the paperwork to do anything about us so on this occasion we could go, Mal started to try and explain but he was suddenly airborne, propelled out of the door before he could get the first sentence out. I had acquired super human powers that allowed me to move him and the two cases out of the office, out of the building and beyond before they thought twice about releasing us. It seems all Mal had to have said was that it was a gift and that would have been okay, we didn’t know !!!

Mal was then presented with a set of ciggie rolling gear by Rachael so he could practice. Hilarious, he doesn’t even smoke. We don’t take anything back now, lesson learnt.

 I closed the gates and listened, just the wind blowing...... How can one small child be so loud?? I have come to the conclusion we are getting too old to cope with little ones. It’s been a super visit and we have done lots but now we realise we are exhausted and the cummalative reason is we haven’t stopped moving since we set off for England in September. So much has happened since then, most of it blurred into a hazy memory. What is this talk of retirement? 

Mal got back from the airport so we had a leisurely breakfast and vowed to sit and do nothing for a week to recover. That lasted an hour and now we are slowly moving stuff from pillar to post to generally restore order. I put a wash load on and had a much needed shower using the hot water from the upstairs tank as it’s now turned off. I must send an email to Iberdrola telling them the power increase we needed with all the visitors to save it blowing the smart meter fuse every five minutes, is not so urgent now as it’s just the two of us again.

All our cars are back on the road again thankfully, Dovi once again to the rescue. The galaxy has a replacement light cluster after Mal thought he would rearrange a pile of pallets with the last one. The 4x4 has two new belts and a new pulley so the power steering works again. My Peugeot has had its pre-ITV followed by its ITV which it surprisingly sailed through. For now, even briefly, I can say all is well.

 I have decided more communication is a good idea though. We both got up at silly o’clock the other day to get the Peugeot to the garage for 9am. This entailed me driving it to Sax and Mal following in his car to give me a lift home. “I want to leave at 8.45am,” Mal says, so I set my alarm. I creep out of my bedroom so as not to waken the sleeping cats who will all want feeding and delay any departure while there is a debate as to who exactly wants what to eat. I quietly close my bedroom door behind me. I am standing by the front door at 8.45 precisely. There is a light under Mal’s door so I presume he is following closely. I unlock the gates and get the car out and still no Mal so I go to his door and call out to tell him I am going to go ahead. 

One car delivered by 9 am, no Mal so I start walking back along the main road around the town. I then take the back road to Petrer which is a long very straight road presumably built by the Romans before the autovía came along. I stroll along not wanting to put too much strain on my Achilles’ tendon which is still somewhat sore and I am supposed to be resting it. After a while I realise there is little chance of being found so I WhatsApp Mal to tell him I am walking back. Little chance of Mal seeing it but you never know.

Shortly after I get a reply asking exactly where I am, I tell him...... I eventually get rescued at 9.30am! 

It seems Mal went into the kitchen and saw my door was shut so presumed I was still asleep so he made himself a cup of coffee, drank it and then fed the now assembled cats before it dawned on him I wasn’t there. Note to self leave a note for Mal........