Chapter One
Michael sat pondering how his day would pan out. He sank deeper into his temporary comfort zone, his body snugly plugged into his seat. Time dragged by; seconds developed into minutes and minutes into hours. He could not believe he had been married to Sybilla for almost ten years.
He reminisced about the time they drove around France for a holiday. They had stopped at Poitiers, Sisteron, and Provence. Sybilla was driving them north towards Dijon while Michael navigated. ‘Darling, you need to turn right at this junction that’s coming up.’
‘We’re camping near Dijon, aren’t we?’
‘Yes, but you must move into the right lane, or you’ll miss it.’
‘I’m in the right lane, aren’t I?’
‘No, you’re not. Come on, signal, and move across quickly. Sybilla; you’ve got stacks of room.’
‘Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.’
‘Well, you’ll miss it if you’re not careful … Oh, you’ve missed it—how on earth did you manage that?’ Michael tutted. ‘Not a car in sight, and you’ve driven straight past it.’
‘Oh, sorry. You meant that one?’
‘There’s no other junction. Don’t worry; we’ll do a U-turn somewhere…’
That U-turn never materialised, and they drove well into the evening, hoping to find a campsite, but their quest was in vain. They stopped at an eatery.
‘I’m tired of driving,’ Sybilla muttered.
‘Well, we’d have been there by now if you’d turned right for Dijon,’ Michael quipped, chuckling to himself. From that moment on, he would pipe up whenever they got lost, ‘Well, we’d have been there by now if you’d turned right for Dijon.’ …
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Michael Hickman Author 