In the few short weeks that 'yours truly', aka 'The One Armed Black Chap' has been Blogging, I am amazed and eternally grateful for the thousands upon thousands of you who are reading my Blog. It's a real buzz for me knowing that so many of you guys out there enjoy my 'ramblings' or should that be 'enjoy my claptrap'?...
Now it may or may not have slipped your attention (I will be surprised if indeed it has because I'm always giving my book a sneaky plug in these pages) but I am actually a fully fledged 'published author' and I have decided that the time has come to remove my 'Lone Ranger' mask, come out into the open, stop 'sneakily plugging' my book and 'bang the plugging drum' unashamedly and very loudly!
Here's how I see it....Like I just said judging by the number of hits on this site it's clear that so many of you like what I write about yet that does not reflect in the number of you who so far have decided to take a look at the book 'Dreams Do Come True' (see how easy I can get these plugs in there!?) and I think I know the reason why and it goes like this...You are all thinking 'It's just a book about infertility, getting pregnant, not getting pregnant, doom and gloom, tears and sorrow etc, etc....
Well I could sit here all night waxing lyrical trying to convince you that our book is nothing like that at all but I think a much better idea would be to give you all a little taster within the pages of this Blog so I have added below one of the chapters that I wrote. ( The book was co-written with Trudie the Angel in my life and mother of my son,who begged me not to preview one of her chapters but she does herself down because she is a very 'emotional and moving' writer).
So here it is, a little snipet to get you you in the mood....If you like it then why not buy a copy and you will also be contributing to a great cause as proceeds from sales go to the IVF unit at St Marys Hospital in Manchester.
Oh! I forgot to mention....my new 'eBook will be hitting Cyberspace in the very near future...
CHAPTER
THE
JOURNEY
Lloyd
There was a lot for me to contemplate
so I was contemplating furiously, trying to make sense of my life and where all
of a sudden it was heading. When my
employers had asked me to move to Aberdeen
it was an easy decision to say ‘yes’.
There was as ever nothing holding me back, ‘nothing to lose and
everything to gain’ was one of my motto's at that time.
Now for the first time in a situation
like this there was a hitch, no that’s the wrong word. For the first time ever, there was a reason
for me to stay put! Or was I being
premature in my thought process? After
all it had been no more than a chance meeting in a night club. We had spoken for no more that 20 minutes and
then I had made the final arrangements for Trudie to come to my party via her
best mate Roxanne after Trudie had vanished Cinderella like into the night.
Roxanne seemed like a really good
mate. She had jumped at the chance to
come to my party promising to bring Trudie with her. It turns out Trudie was living at Roxanne’s
following the split from her ex and Roxy gave me their home number and Trudie’s
works number.
How could I be contemplating not
moving to Scotland
based on a 20 minute blast from the past?
I had invited Trudie to a party that was still four weeks away then I
was going to leave on a 400 mile journey to Aberdeen
the next day. What sort of planning was
that?! I needed to be a bit more
decisive, why wait four weeks? I needed
to pick up the phone and call her.
It was Wednesday morning so I figured
Trudie would be at work. I therefore
rang her direct number as supplied by Roxy.
Seeing as it was her direct line, why was I so surprised when she
actually answered? She was very
surprised to hear my voice too. This is
when I started to realise that Roxanne enjoyed playing mischief-maker as she
had not told her best mate that she had given all her contact details to some
strange guy in a nightclub the previous weekend.
So after an awkward introduction we
had a great catch up and best of all Trudie agreed to come over to Chester that coming
weekend. I promised to show her the
sights that Saturday evening after I had finished work.
Now I really had stuff to think
about. I now had four weeks to get to
know my blast from the past. I needed to
know if my reservations about leaving were based on anything more than that
‘brief encounter’, of a few days ago.
The four weeks came and went all too
quickly. Trudie had come over to Chester the first weekend
after we met and we got on as though we’d known each other all our lives. The original plan was for her to come over
for the Saturday but we were having such a good time it was Wednesday before we
recovered our senses and decided we had both better go back to work.
Then there had been the big ‘leaving
do’. Another great success, if we leave
out the fact that it was the Police who eventually called ‘time’ on the
merriment early on the Sunday morning.
Although I suppose it served me right for bunking off to a local hotel
with Trudie while leaving my brother Adam in charge. Threatening to throw my landlord down the
stairs for complaining about the mess was not quite the way I would have
handled things. The fact that the
landlord had to negotiate his way through a number of drunken semi naked revelers had not done much to help his mood either.
My excuse of spending the night in the
hotel was pretty valid in that I wanted to grab at least a few hours alone with
Trudie, and I needed to sleep before tackling the long drive up to Aberdeen. Actually long drive is an understatement. It took me over eight hours to make the
journey giving me lots of time to contemplate my new found relationship.
I felt very positive about how we had
hit it off over the past four weeks. I
could feel there was a special bond already forming between us. I was not on the lookout for a lasting
relationship but I knew I wanted to be around Trudie as much as possible.
As the miles to Aberdeen rolled by, it began to seem as
though my journey would never end. I
started to realise that distance was going to play a major part in deciding if
we stayed together or not.
We had both promised the other we
would keep in touch and visit each other as often as possible. No firm rules or commitments, we were going
to let love take its natural course and if we were meant to stay together long
term then it would happen.
As night began to fall and I still had
a couple of hours before I got to Aberdeen I started thinking of other modes of
transport that could eat up the miles more efficiently than this laborious
drive. The first alternative that sprung
to mind was the train, yes that would be a good way to make the journey, let
someone else take the strain. The next
thing I thought about briefly, and I mean very briefly, was flying. I didn’t give it too much consideration
because I am the worlds worst when it comes to getting on aeroplanes. Why?
Because it’s not natural! A great
big chunk of metal no matter how aerodynamic is not meant to leave the ground,
particularly with me in it.
Don’t get me wrong, I do fly if it’s
absolutely necessary. I have taken
holidays abroad but believe me when I say getting there and coming back on the
plane is by far the worst part of any holiday for me. I’m the same with these crazy rides that
thrill seekers go on at places like Alton
Towers or Busch Gardens in Florida. I don’t consider risking my life on some
rickety ‘man-made’ contraption, a thrill.
Has no one ever heard of ‘human error’?
I don’t need to get on ‘The Big One' or 'Apollo's Chariot' to get to work or to reach a
holiday destination so consequently I have never set foot on them and
never will.
As Trudie got to know me she realised
fear of flying was my thing, and in a weird way it gave her an indication of
how serious I was about our relationship.
I had been in Aberdeen a few months where during that time
we had managed to see each other on quite a few weekends. Mostly Trudie had taken the long drive
because she could finish work early on a Friday and head north, whereas I
generally worked Saturdays. I had made
the odd journey in the opposite direction by hire car or train and with a Bank
Holiday coming up I was due to catch the train down to Preston
to spend a long weekend. However,
probably because it was a Bank Holiday weekend, the train timetables were
rather patchy to say the very least and whilst I could get a train south there
was absolutely nothing coming back north when I needed it.
I rang Trudie to tell her....“You could fly?” She had offered half-heartedly, not really
expecting a positive riposte. “OK, I’ll
go and see if there’s a flight”, I said while wondering in amazement who had
taken control of my vocal cords! I
suppose it’s like going on a holiday I told myself as I headed off to the
‘Flight Agents’ shop. Oh, the things we
do for love....
It turned out there were no planes
leaving Aberdeen for Manchester when I needed one. What a relief! At least I could say I’d tried, even though I
felt like the worlds biggest coward. I
was about to leave when the Booking Agent started getting rather too clever and
helpful for my liking. She went onto
explain that there was a flight from Manchester
back to Aberdeen
at exactly the time I needed to come back.
‘OK Miss Clever Clogs. But fat
lot of use that is, when you can’t get me on a flight there in the first
place’, (I thought to myself). But she
was good at her job, too bloody good.
‘She could book me on a train down on the Friday afternoon and get me on
the flight back on Monday’. She just had
to check there were still seats available on the plane. “Oh dear, it seems to
be fully booked”. HA! Not so clever now are we Missy, I smiled to
myself. “Oh! There’s been a cancellation
this morning”, she said rather too excitedly for my liking, “I can give you the
last seat on the plane, would you like me to book it?” No, just give me the details of the imbecile
who cancelled so I can go round and set about him with a baseball bat I was
thinking… and stop looking so pleased with yourself you over helpful cow!
Then the 'voice-jacker' took over again
and I could hear him using my vocal cords to agree to this life endangering
journey. Then somehow my body was being
controlled by an alien presence as I signed where I needed to sign my own death
warrant and then to cap it all paid for the privilege!
As I left the office a condemned man
my first thought was to go back in and get that woman’s name and the details of
her head office. I would send in a
letter of complaint. Bloody
over-helpful, over-zealous staff booking people onto flights of death, what the
hell did she think she was doing? Then I remembered the reason for my flight of
death, I was going to see Trudie again and anyway I was only going to die on
the way back. It would make me enjoy my
weekend even more knowing it was my last on this mortal coil.
I would let it go this time. I wouldn't report her to Head Office. I would be brave and take the flight home
pretty much the way I had to when I went abroad on holiday. I began to look forward excitedly to the
fantastic few days Trudie and I would spend together.
Before I knew it the fantastic few
days were history and Trudie was driving me to Manchester Airport. I had tried not to make too big a deal about
my fears for the flight home but she knew I was worried and while not wanting
to sound like a big baby I was fearing flying alone for the first ever
time! Who was going to hold my hand
particularly at the point that scared me most, the take off? When the plane thunders down the runway at
breakneck speed before defying the laws of gravity to take off, when I feel
like jumping out of my seat and screaming at the cabin crew to let me get
off. Who was going to hold me down and
stop me from doing it this time?
“You’ll be fine”, Trudie assured
me. “You’ll be there before you know
it. Aberdeen won’t seem so far away by
plane”. ‘Easy for you to say’, I
thought. Trudie loves flying and going
on Big Dippers and other wild rides, there was no way she could understand my
fear. Much the same way I could never understand
her fear of spiders. If you don’t share
someone’s phobia you can’t appreciate what all the fuss is about.
We found the check-in desk and that’s
when I first started to suspect that all was not as it seemed. The check-in clerk told me my hand luggage
was too big and would therefore have to be checked-in, to go in the hold of the
plane! Too big? It was only a sports bag! We said our goodbye’s and I made my way to
Gate No. 16 as per my flight instructions and that’s where my suspicions
started to turn to paranoia. I
distinctly remember ‘Miss Clever Clogs’ in Aberdeen telling me she had managed
to book me on the last remaining seat on this plane, so why was there just me
and about ten other blokes waiting for the aircraft at Gate No. 16?
Then I got my answer. Surely someone was having a laugh at my
expense. The jalopy that taxied onto the
tarmac in front of Gate No. 16 was not fit to be a fairground ride let alone
actually take off with people in it and fly to Aberdeen.
That’s why my bag had to go in the hold, that’s why there were just a
dozen or so passengers! The plane was so
small I would probably have to sit on someone’s lap. It had bloody propellers and they looked
ill-fitted! I had managed to get quite a
good deal on the travel tickets I bought even though it was a Bank Holiday
weekend and now I was beginning to understand why. I was going ‘crop-spraying’! I was flying home in a plane not much bigger
than a two-seater crop-sprayer!
Panic was setting in! I looked back at the main building of the
Airport to see if I could spot Trudie but who was I kidding, she would be well
on her way by now. She knew I was going
on an ‘Air-fix’ plane and was, by now, making good her escape.
This time when the alien presence took
control of my body I was grateful because it walked me down the steps to the
tarmac when my natural instinct was to turn tail and run back into the airport.
The alien then climbed the rickety
little steps on to the plane using my legs before sitting me down in the
tiniest of seats directly above the left wing and just behind the dodgiest looking
of the two propellers.
This was not really happening to me
was it? I imagined what it must be like
for those people you hear about who go into surgery for an operation but the anesthetic doesn't knock them out to proper effect, and they are awake throughout
the whole operation but unable to speak.
Unable to protest about the distress they are experiencing. Yes, I was having my very own ‘triple bypass
surgery’ without anesthetic. I was
experiencing what for me, was a living nightmare and the worst was yet to come.
My stress levels were going through
the roof and as yet the plane hadn't even moved, thank goodness for small mercies but it was not to be for very
long.
I looked round the plane and started
to take in my surroundings. The first
thing I noticed was that even though I was in the third seat back out of six, I
was practically looking over the pilots shoulder. I could clearly read all the dials on his
instrument panel, that’s how small this plane was. There was an air hostess who was busy
strapping herself into a seat that was positioned right at the back of the
plane, maybe she new something we should know I remember thinking as I quickly
scrabbled around looking for my safety belt.
The whole proceedings took on real
comedy proportions when the pilot got out of his seat to stand up, he turned
round to face us as he leaned into the cabin and delivered his pre-flight
spiel. He informed us that refreshments
were being provided; flasks would be coming round, one of tea and one of
coffee. I kid you not! I wanted to shout out ‘Never mind tea and
coffee, where’s the bloody brandy?’ I
did not need a warm beverage at this time I needed strong alcohol to numb the
senses, to get me through the peril that lay ahead.
All too soon it was time to go. Time to get airborne. And the crop-sprayer was being revved
up. It sounded like a lawn-mower, a
pretty powerful lawn-mower but a lawn-mower nonetheless. The dodgy propellers were turning, nowhere
near fast enough for my piece of mind but I assumed they would speed up as
required when necessary. Then we lurched
into motion as we began the short trip to the runway with the windows vibrating
and seats juddering, this piece of junk did not even cut it as a decent car let
alone an aeroplane!
The next comedy moment came when we
had to wait at a little junction at the side of the runway. We had to ‘Give Way’ while the ‘proper’ planes took
off and landed. We had to stay out of
the way of the real aviators before finally being granted permission to take
off ourselves.
We began to trundle along the runway
and under normal circumstances I would be pinned back in my seat with fear as
the aircraft roars with power and impossible pace before thrusting
skywards. However, these were not normal
circumstances and instead I was thinking things like, ‘when will the propellers
actually start turning quickly?’ and, ‘surely a plane can’t take off whilst
doing just 30mph?” Don’t even get me
started on the sounds the damn thing was making. And still we ambled along at a pace that made
‘Driving Miss Daisy’ look like Burt Reynolds in ‘The Cannonball Run’!
I looked into the cockpit, the pilot
was no more than 7 or 8 feet away, I could dive over there and take him out,
make him abort the take off and wait until he had a real plane to fly. He was clearly insane if he thought he was
going to get this thing off the ground and my actions in hijacking this flight
would be seen as heroic as opposed to criminal.
I would be commended for saving so many lives by my brave actions
against the ‘madman pilot’!
Before I could put my rescue plan into
operation however, I felt a strange but familiar sensation that forced me to
cling onto my seat. It was the familiar,
but very scary, sensation of leaving the ground. We were indeed taking off at 30mph! OK the pilot was giving it the full works and
maybe we were hitting 40mph by now but the front wheels had definitely lifted
from the tarmac, conclusive evidence if anyone was still in doubt, that we had
a lunatic at the controls. He was trying
to defy gravity and take off in a plane that was travelling at the same speed
as a milk float!
I closed my eyes but opened them again
a minute later on the basis that not seeing was scarier than watching the whole
horror-show unfold in front of me. A lot
can happen in a minute and I was surprised to see that we were actually a good
way from the ground below when I looked out of the window. Just as I was starting to think things weren't as bad as I’d feared. The madman
masquerading in the pilots outfit decided it was necessary to change the
direction we were flying in.
Now, in a huge Boeing type aeroplane
this sort of man-oeuvre is no big deal even to a ‘soft pants’ like me… but in a
motorised kite? Turning left or right is
like doing a death defying ‘Red Arrows’ type stunt. The sky suddenly appeared to be below me
while the ground was over my head. It
felt as though we would all fall out of the plane at any second. My stomach began to lurch and I wondered
which way my vomit would fly, down towards the ceiling or up to the floor? I decided throwing up was not a good option,
it would make a horrendous mess in such close quarters and I could not
entertain the idea of being sick on my clothes.
I had a reputation to preserve and hint of puke was not the latest
fashion trend.
I had to get a grip and the sooner the
better, ‘think about it Lloyd, you are up here like it or not, there’s nowhere
else to go for the next hour or so, get used to it. Relax, plane crashes are very rare, you have more
chance of getting knocked down by a bus in the high street’, etc. etc. etc. I
was doing my best to recall and use every bit of logic or flying statistic that
I could muster in order to bring myself down from the heightened state of panic
I was experiencing and gradually found myself relaxing a little. Don’t’ get me wrong here, I don’t mean
relaxing as in ‘by the pool under a sunshade with a Pina-Collada’
relaxing. I just relaxed enough to avoid
soiling my pants or wearing hint of puke for the remainder of the journey.
At least the worst part of flying for
me was over, I had survived the take-off and now there was just the landing to
master then I would be back on solid ground I could do that. I had no choice in the matter but I could do
it I told myself. But my bravery and
commitment to love were really going to be tested on this day. I had survived an ordeal that for me and
others like me who hate flying, was a living nightmare but believe it or not it
still wasn't over. I must have omitted
to read the small print on my travel documents or failed to hear if Miss Clever
Clogs in Aberdeen had told me, but whatever the reason I swear I nearly had
heart failure on the spot when about fifty minutes into the journey, at a point
where I was thinking ‘nearly there, we’ll be landing soon and it’ll all be
over’, the mad pilot announced over his shoulder that we would be landing in
Dundee for refueling before taking off again to complete the journey to
Aberdeen!
So this crappy little aeroplane couldn't even carry enough fuel to get us all the way to Aberdeen in one go. I didn't even know Dundee
had an airport!
The rest of the journey to this day
remains a hazy blur as I can only assume my brain shut down in order to protect
me in some weird way. I know I was there
on that plane but in a strange detached third party sort of presence. I felt like I was watching from outside my
body as the plane ‘Red Arrowed’ around and down over a bridge that crossed the
river near to the airfield before landing.
I watched yet another comedy moment as the pilot slid open his window
and instructed the guy on the ground to “Fill her up!” Then, by the time we went through the whole
ridiculous take off procedure again I just didn't care anymore. I was too far gone to care and barely
remember actually landing in Aberdeen. I do remember how my legs seemed to be made
from jelly as I finally emerged from the plane and made my way shakily down the
steps and it was a good couple of days before I felt physically well again
after my ordeal.
They say every cloud has a silver
lining (excuse the pun) and although I could see no positives whatsoever at the
time, that flight had proved to be the catalyst in me deciding that first of
all, never again in my life would I set foot in a plane of that size, and
secondly I was no longer prepared to be so far away from Trudie. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I
wanted to spend the rest of my days with her and soon began making plans to
come home. One thing was guaranteed in
that I would not be coming home by aeroplane.
