Village Voice June/July 2013 | Page 21

BELLE GETS LOST IN MK So there I was in the ladies’ loos in the Milton Keynes shopping centre at 8.30am on a Sunday morning, coffee dripping from my jeans, trying to dry off my sweater in the ‘dive in’ hand-dryers. Not the best way to start the day. Actually, if I had said yes to a cooked breakfast in the B&B an hour earlier, I might not have felt the need to dash into Costa and spill coffee all down myself as soon as I got there; but it’s no good falling back on ‘if only’. The Costa chaps (sorry – baristas) were very kind, supplying me with wet cloths, and asking if I was scalded. I thought, rather ungraciously, a little later, that maybe they were terrified I would sue. Since I had caused the accident by trying to force paper napkins and packets of brown sugar in between two unsecured cardboard cups in the holder, thus tipping the cup towards me, I could hardly blame them. (Any ambulancechasing lawyers reading this, please feel free to contact me if you think I have a case). Regular readers will have worked out by now that I was there at a two-day event to support my personal handyman (PH) in his bid to dominate the world of war-gaming with his dinky little heraldic transfers. My job, as described in a previous edition, was to pose and point winningly at the products. Unfortunately, this was not so much a trade fair as a gaming competition, and the traders were mostly noticeable by their absence. Had it not been for the enormous shopping centre surrounding me, I don’t know what I should have done to cheer myself up. Once round the tables the previous day was enough to convince me that I’d seen everything worth seeing. However, I was very impressed by the ‘balloon’ game, an aerial battle: the French (with air balloons) versus the English (with Congreve rockets and aerial mines). The balloons were creatively assembled using ballcocks, and I wanted to take one home with me, but the organisers wouldn’t let me. On to a ‘terrain’ type game. I was delighted to see that cornfields were represented by squares of sisal doormat, so realistic, it made me start thinking what I would do. Then I gave myself a shake. It was time to be on to the shops, where yes, after much research, I found a couple of bargains. A day and a half later, packing up, I set off carrying two unwieldy revolving display stands, to follow PH to where he’d parked the car. Stopped to say goodbye to a neighbouring trader, and lost sight of PH. Those who frequent shopping centres, with their multiple entrances, will know where this is going. I stood in the nearest doorway, staring at the pouring rain, unwilling to venture further until I had my bearings. I asked a passing Sealed Knot member of my acquaintance (full cavalier get-up, sash, long hair and all) if he’d seen him. No. The brown paper carrier containing our ‘iron rations’ got wet and fell apart, strewing dried fruit and yogurt-covered raisins all over the 19