The Lords Prayer

Before leaving for the airport, the wonderfully endowed Jude “where’s my Baileys” O Sullivan dropped in as she happened to be passing. Her car barely made it up the drive and there was a lot of clanking of glass and her bottom was dragging in the gravel (the car, not Jude) so I surmised that she had been to the local supermarket to clear out their stock of that glutinous nonsense of a beverage that she holds so dear.

Over a small beer in the sunshine whilst I waited for my lift to Nice Airport, she revealed that she had a new dog, a Westy. She asked if I could guess the dog’s name and for reasons I cannot fathom, I never guessed correctly. Bailey. It was so obvious I should have seen it coming, the name not the dog.

Speedy boarding is as close to business class you can get on Easyjet. It is designed to ensure you can choose your seat and get on board first. Yesterday This entitled you to stand up in an in air-conditioned air bridge in full sunshine and 30 degrees heat for twenty minutes, not bad for an extra tenner a piece. However, when the riff raff, who had ordinary tickets, were allowed to board the back of the aircraft at the same time, I sensed an angry stirring in That Nice Lady Decorator which would have turned nasty had there been even a minute more spent broiling and waiting to board.

Arriving at The Thistle Hotel in Marble Arch at 6pm, it was clearly time for an early evening sharpener in temperatures similar to those we had left behind. London is not at its best when this hot as air conditioning is rare. We went to the Portman in Seymour Place with an excited Aunt Pam. It was not the 1950’s when she has seen the Australian cricket team play, neither was it the Oval as I stated in yesterday’s not as accurate as usual, sparkling prose, but the late 1940’s and Bristol where she had witnessed Wally Hammond play for Gloucestershire against the touring side, who, in those days would have arrived via a six-week cruise from that convicts delight. No Barmy Army in those days.

Fireworks today at Lords?

Last night at the Portman we were joined by the Wingco, he too being in London to go to the cricket. He reminded me that he is a loyal Currencies Direct customer, using the service diligently and then proceeded to enjoy several glasses of wine at my expense, as a “commission repayment” as he put it. When I suggested that I make mention of this in today’s column he used his favourite adjective to describe its contents; “ghastly”. But how can he know when he professes never to read and that he never will?

So today we must pray. The Reverend Jeff will be delighted but it is just a literary trick to enable me to use the headline of today’s column, The Lords Prayer. After breakfast we shall be making our way down to Lords, the home of cricket, the finest and most noble game known to man. There is a wonderful atmosphere to the first day of any Lords Test Match, but even more so when the old enemy, Australia, are England’s opponents. The first part of the prayer will be that we win the toss and bat first. The second part will be that we are still batting by close of play and the third that we have over 300 runs on the scoreboard for not very many wickets. The father the son and the Holy Ghost.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News