After I untwisted myself, I went back to the party and danced wearily until it was safe to slink back to bed unnoticed.īut I was beginning to make a name for myself. They turned on all the lights and grabbed each end of the bedding, picking me up like I was a possum in a hammock and swinging me round in the sheet for a terrifying 15 minutes. A few hours later I was discovered by some of the guests – outraged that I would go to sleep in the middle of a party. I snuck off – I’m not sure what time – and found a bunk bed in a dark corner of the house and tried to sleep. On Jo’s 40th, she rented a house in Port Fairy and we had a big party. I waited until 7:45pm before announcing that it was time to go back to my motel. The chair was like a bed … but still, it wasn’t the same. It was only 7.30pm and still high light outside – but I wanted to go to bed.
The household settled in for a night of tennis, but I couldn’t relax. After dinner the tennis was on, a postprandial G&T was offered, there was a bowl of Haigh’s chocolate aniseed rings on the table and I was given the good chair – one that reclined and felt like lying in a giant baseball mitt.
The next night I had dinner with my friend Jo and her dad.
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