Nellie and Monk Head for Cambodia

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Nellie and Monk Depart for Cambodia

Come Sunday, Monk should have been organised, packed and ready to go. However, work had continued non-stop for an almost solid 3 weeks until 20:30 on Friday evening, Saturday was taken up with celebrating Irene's birthday (see the previous blog) and Sunday, during the day, saw yet more things to be done. So, come 18:00 on Sunday night, Monk was ironing, searching for things lost since the last trip and generally getting into a panic. By 00:30, all was packed.

Next morning, before the taxi arrived at 07:00, Monk gave Nellie a spray of Irene's Paris (Monk had learned from Irene that a girl shouldn't go travelling without looking and smelling her best). They say that perfume reacts differently on different people but no-one, it seems, has bothered to study its effect on toy elephants. Well, obviously, Irene's skin and Nellie's fur are equally receptive to the subtleties of Paris - it smelled wonderful.

Monk's Meanders

Irene and Monk never used the taxi company much, generally only for trips to the airport. They'd walk to local restaurants and pubs or, if in London, they'd catch the last train or the N87 night bus from Trafalgar Square and enjoy the free cabaret en-route.

Monk recognised the taxi driver. However, taxi drivers meet thousands of people during the course of their work so Monk didn't put him into the embarassing situation of him having to pretend that he also remembered Monk. Plinio, as he later introduced himself, chatted and, halfway to Heathrow, he mentioned Irene. He remembered taking us to Gatwick one time when we were off to Greece - must have been 2008 or before. He then recalled that he'd driven us to the Royal Marsden in Fulham Road one day when Irene must have been scheduled for a chemotherapy session. Then, most poignantly of all, he recalled that he'd been one of the drivers who'd taken us and our friends from the register office in Kingston to San Lorenzo in Wimbledon to celebrate our marriage, on Monk's birthday, just six weeks before Irene trundled off in the direction of Mandalay. So - on a beautifully sunny morning, under a brilliant blue sky, a tearful Monk arrived at Terminal 4. Everybody who met her remembered Irene - she had that effect on people.

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