I had announced to the entire family that they could expect nothing but bad luck. Friday 13th was written large and clear on the family blackboard in the kitchen. If you want to convey anything to the family, write it on the black board. If the Small Cross One does not like it then it gets rubbed out, so it's a bit hit and miss really.
Anyway they all got the message. His Lordship said I was being a bore about the entire thing. The family that had booked to stay during half term in the gite decided that they did not need accommodation with a swimming pool so cancelled. We now have an Indian summer and I had a wonderful swim in the pool. I did try and tell them but I guess sitting watching Autumn descend in England they couldn't envisage it.
Someone jolly nice turned up for a drink. Gave me the perfect opportunity to drive the point home on my Friday 13th theory.
Suddenly 2b bounced in, I mean he can be a lively chap but it did cross my mind that he may have started the weekend early, if you get my drift. Our visitor was terribly proper so I did hope that I wasn't going to be let down my an uncouth youth.
"What day is it today" he shouted face alight. "Friday" I said. "No No" he all but shrieked, "the date"? There was an inward groan from the rest of the family. "Friday 13th" he bellowed, "unlucky for some but not for me" He flung down 100 euros in my direction which was long overdue towards some bike insurance. Turns out he had purchased a scratch card for 2 euros and won 200. "Figured out that today I might get lucky" he explained.
With that he leapt on his bike and roared off.
His Lordship announced it was time for a celebration and popped open a bottle of Limoux Blanquette which knocks a bottle of champagne into a cocked hat anyday of the week and is a fraction of the price.
The Small Cross One wiped my warning off the blackboard and the terribly proper guest ended up staying the night.