The second honeymoon
"TURN left!"
“Where?”
"There – well, you’ve gone past it now."
“Couldn’t you tell me sooner?”
"Couldn’t you drive slower?"
“I thought you wanted to get there today.”
"It’s only 10am."
“I know that, but there’s a long way to go.”
"One hundred and fifty miles is a long way?"
“It is the way you navigate.”
"Let’s not fight. We’re on holiday. Why are you turning round?"
“I thought we had to turn left.”
"Forget it. We can take the next one."
“Then why did you frighten me into braking, ramming my nose against the windscreen and the steering wheel into my chest, at the last one?”
"Because if you’re going too fast at the next one we will have to turn round."
“I wasn’t going too fast.”
"Then why are we still travelling along here?"
“Because–! Never mind. We’re on holiday.”
"Do you know the address of this place?"
“It’s in the brochure.”
"I know that, but where’s the brochure?"
“I gave it to you.”
"No you didn’t. You were going to give it to me at breakfast, but then I reminded you the oil and water needed checking and you stromed off–"
“I didn’t storm off. And we’re only going 150 kilometres!”
"What’s that got to do with anything?"
“Well, you said… Oh, never mind.”
"So… where’s the brochure?"
“I don’t know.”
"There’s no need to sulk."
“I am not sulking. I just didn’t storm off.”
"You mean you are sulking, but it’s because I accused you of storming off."
“When I didn’t.”
"But you are sulking. Anyway, I’ve got the brochure here."
“So I did–”
"No you didn’t. You left it on the telephone table and I picked it up."
“Bloody hell, no wonder I’m sulking!”
"Aha!"
“Look, it’s our silver wedding anniversary. It is my intention to revisit all the exotic and exciting emotions we experienced when we first met. I do not want to fight. I do not want to score points. I want us to spend the next few days in a harmony that will make the gods smile and cause doves to flutter down and settle on our shoulders. I do not want–”
"Turn left!"
“Where?”
"There – well, you’ve gone past it now."