Human Food (for insects)

Rocksey and Penguino returned from a night out in Malaga. Penguino knawing on what Rocksey said was half of a sheep leg Rocksey chewing on a celery stick, ( as this was what penguino had said was all he could eat from the kebab shop they had visited(now Rocksey was trying out a vegan lifestyle) before returning to the studio/house.

On entering the building both stopped dead and listened, in the distance there was a faint swish swish spray yelp sound and various high pitched screams and curses. Both Rocksey and Penguino looked at each other shrugged and headed to the kitchen, threw open the American fridge doors and retrieved a bottle of JD (Rocksey could still drink this)  and a bucket of ice. Both friends settled down on the terrace and chatted about the album.

Penguino again said”What is that noise” Rocksey shrugged. Both friends clinked glasses and carried on where they had left off. Penguino retrieved his guitar and began to make it sing, the sound was more akin to a songbird than a guitar again Rocksey shook his head in disbelief and just watched.

Abruptly Penguino stopped “I’ve got to find out what that noise is”. Penguino and Rocksey set off to track the swish swish yelp scream spray spray sound down. “What do you think it is” Rocksey enquired ?” Penguino replied “as long as its not Marsh with one of my guitars i’m not to concerned” 

The noise was getting louder and louder now, Penguino stopped dead “it is him it is him he’s dead if its one of my guitars” Rocksey pointed out when they last saw Marsh, Penguino had launched him out of the studio, and left him in a drunken heap then he double locked the door so he couldn’t get in, anywhere near to his guitars.

Opon opening the door to Marshe’s room the two friends stopped dead. There in his white Y fronts was Marsh fly swotter  in one hand spray in his other. It looked like he was sword fencing multiple invisible opponents and engaging in chemical warfare at the same time, and the opponents were winning. Swish Swish spray spray scream yelp swish, Marsh was now polka dot from head to tow, red blotches on his lilly white milk coloured skin, where it was now apparent he had become dinner for countless mosquitoes and still was main course judging by his frantic fencing actions. Rocksey and Penguino looked at each other “shall we help him” Rocksey asked Penguino replied “why” “with you being vegan now you cant kill a living thing so it would be wrong for you, and I cant bebothered” 

Both friends closed the door and  returned to the terrace, Penguino asked Rocksey “can you die from loss of blood due to mosquito bites ?” We will find out soon enough we will find out soon enough. Another clink of glasses and more sweet guitar tunes cane from the terrace, in the distance the same swish swish scream yelp sounds echoed into the distance. Penguino muttered ” do you think the mosquitoes are going to kill him tonight” as his solo bounced off the the ceiling and resounded around the terrace, “No, oh well at least its not us” Rocksey replied. Both laughed and dropped more ice into their now empty glasses filled them and carried on chatting……. swish swish spray yelp scream yelp swish echoed into the distance Marsh was losing the battle. At least he wont look like Mr Milk bottle tomorrow Rocksey announced Penguino added if there is a tomorrow for him .

Back to Reality NOT

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Well the partying couldn’t go on forever, Marsh went back to his part-time directorships Penguino went off to his retreat, Melody and Suki stayed on in Greece to take in the culture they said, more like the wine I thought. Me and Rocksey returned home with nothing planned or so I thought.

After a couple of days lazing around and strumming his guitar (were still on the same song by the way) Rocksey announced “were off” where I squawked back at him. Spain ! !! !  why Spain?. I’ve arranged a few solo gigs there just low-key 20 to 30 people max he said. But you only know 2 songs and neither of them are perfect and you don’t even know all the lyrics to them, you can’t go and humm your way through. I have to admit i was a touch concerned in Rockseys eyes he was a far better guitarist than he actually was and yes he could get away with mumbling the lyrics to his own songs  but not to the classics he was proposing.

Two days later my bags were packed “wheres your bags” I asked Rocksey ?, “here” was the response WHERE I shouted back. Proudly Rocksey showed me his old school satchel “here”. “you’ve got to be joking ” I retorted “no” here is my BAG! !. Well don’t come complaining to me in a few days when you stink and even I wont come within 10 yards of you.

The first few days were just fine hot sunshine, azul blue skies, and great people. Rocksey had surpassed himself with the early organisation and even the first show was good, the people seemed to enjoy it and Rocksey certainly did. “Its far more intense” he said  just me and the people non of that stage show, fireworks and lights this is far better.

it wasn’t long before we had it the south of Spain (an area I knew very well) we’d taken up residence in one of Rockseys Spanish friends villas Rocksey was playing in the local bars and I was just touring around. I’m off to Granada for a few days I told Rocksey, Ok see you when you get back. Now this was unusual Rocksey normally likes to know when and where, who and how when a trip is organised but this time not a question. I have to admit I wasn’t so sure about going now. But off I went “see you in three days I called” “bye have a great time” was the reply. out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Rocksey sprinting out towards the terrace. no time to investige now my driver had turned up and off I went.

Now what happened next is Rockseys version of events so belive what you might.A few phone calls later and Marsh and Penguino were both on their way to meet Rocksey. Rocksey had now realised that his guitar playing wasnt the best and required the silken skills of Penguino but why Marsh that I couldn’t work out.

Man hugs were handed out as soon as Penguino and Marsh arrived and the beers were opened. “whats the plan” Penguino enquired. “latin speaking countries” there’s a massive market out there and together we can take it. Also we start tonight here’s the song list, Rocksey handed the list to Penguing. Penguino looked back at Rocksey and said “is this the right list” yep was the reply. No problem Penguino replied. Senor Penguino could play just about any song and if he couldn’t he could produce a tune which was just as good. When tonight in the harbour was the response a small venue 30 to 40 max  it will be great but before lets clear these beers. Now Marsh perked up at the sound of beer as the temperature was now in the high 30’s. What do I do asked Marsh you’ve got your tambourine like I asked, “yep” dont i need to know what songs and where I play? not really its all by ear Rocksey replied. This had marsh slightly concerned but as another beer had made its way into his hand all worries soon disappeared.

The sweltering day slid into the early evening and Rocksey and Penguino were getting ready Rocksey still living out of his tiny bag and recycling as much as he could. Penguino had borrowed a guitar from the local store, with the proviso he signed the guitar and spent a few hours in the store the following day. Marsh was still laying beside the Pool, Come on marsh were off.

The shout startled Marsh awake and he sprung into action dashing towards the car, you’re not changing he was asked. I’ve got some things in my bag “let’s go”. Rocksey was sat next to Marsh in the car and he could feel the heat coming off Marsh. You going to ne ok tonight he enquired. Unusual for Rocksey to be concerned but Marsh usually was the colour of milk and now he was slowley turning the colour of a tomato.

In through the back door they went. The three Amigos as they had billed themselves bundled themselves towards the stage. Rocksey stopped them and handed Marsh some castanets “what are these” Marsh asked “you’ll need them was the reply and with that the curtains opened Penguino started immediately the crowd loved him straight away slick and professional then Rocksey, not bad by all accounts carrying off LOLA almost note perfect. By now the sun and beer had caught up with Marsh and for the first couple of songs he was great in time and even pushing the song were required, but while Rocksey was doing his inter song chats Marsh kept on having a sip or two from the drinks provided. Rocksye and Penguino sipped water. By the fifth song Marsh seemed to have disappeared Rocksey looked at penguino and Penguino shrugged. Then night drew to a close rapturous applause echoed around the venue as they left the stage. Rocksey announced as they left the stage “clothes shopping tomorrow” I can’t keep wearing the same stuff. Music shop for me tomorrow Penguino replied, he never broke a promise. Marsh would be staying in bed as he was found slumped behind the door between the frame and the toilet. Hard to see as he was now the colour of the tiles and blended in quite well.

The usual words “never again” were uttered by Marsh. Penguino said “he’s not to bad” on percussion is he I might have a gig or two for him when we get back. “just keep him away from the beer” Rocksey said, not even a couple.

The following morning Rocksey and Penguino sat back on the terrace beer in hand betting on what time Marsh would appear, Marsh who had been taken to A&E last night with sunstroke and alcohol poisoning, it appears the drink marsh kept sipping till he started slipping was 80% proof, and the doctor had informed him no alcohol for 5 days and no sun either. What am I supposed to do Marsh asked I’m in Spain and I can’t go in the sun or have a Beer? Penguino and Rocksey full of sympathy shouted back at Marsh “were off to the beach to catch a few rays and a beer or two see ya later”……

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PASSPORT REQUIRED

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Well Marsh had decided to visit his old mucker Hutch. Now hutch had been Marshe’s best Buddy back in the day and many a tale could be told about there antics, but today I’ll stick to this visit.

A brief background on Hutch first. Hutch had always seen himself as an aspiring author and after his big win on the lottery he’d moved to the Isle of Wight in a large house overlooking the marina. To keep his eye on his yacht we all thought. Now we all laughed about Hutch writing because he had the mastery of English grammar the same as an Assyrian Goat herder. But 5 successful books down the line it was Hutch who was laughing, but i digress.

Now when Marsh was organising this trip Hutch informed him that due to heightened security Marsh would and I quote “need his passport Euros and vaccination card”. Now this had marsh in a panic and the rest of us in fits of laughter .Marsh claimed that because the Isle of Wight wasnt connected to the mainland it wasnt part of the UK, (intelligence never a strong point with Marsh) and he visited a stunned doctor to get his shots before travel.

On arrival Hutch had the day/evening all planned, they would start on Hutches yacht before hitting the harbour bars where Hutch was well known for drinking till the sun came up. When seated on the deck of the yacht hutch brought Marsh a couple of bottles of sol “Cheers matey” this is going to be a long night. This is what Marsh had been dreading, he had hoped hutch had mellowed over all the years but NO Hutch was as loud and in your face as ever about the same as a shell fired from a Tiger 2 tank. “There’s no limes in my sol” shouted Marsh “I don’t do fruit in my drinks” was Hutch’s response. if you want fruit go to one of them poncey wine bars and have a cocktail, we’ll start on the beers and progress as the night goes on .

Two bars later and 4 beers later Marsh thought (as per usual) he could take on the world and how he was also the winner of strictly come dancing, showing off his moves to the latest Tinie tempah song, he looked more like Bambi on Ice.

Hutch turned to look out over the harbour only to hear a loud thud behind him, spinning around he saw NOTHING ! ! ! Until his eyes dropped to floor level there was MArsh in his normal position unconscious and drunk as a skunk.

Hutch summoned the bar staff to drag Marsh into the back room to sleep his 2 bottles and 4 small beers off while Hutch would as per normal continue the party till the early hours. NOTHING will ever change with hard drinking Marsh Nothing will change Hutch thought to himself as he watched the sun sink below the horizon while sipping another whiskey…

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SuMMER 2017

img_1574Well its been a week or two since we saw Marsh & melody… But it seems Rocksey and Marsh have been busy organising things. Me and Rocksey go on to our Spanish finca  for4 weeks during the summer, but this year Rocksey said he wanted a week either side to write songs. ! ! ! ..

But it turns out Him and Marsh are going out for the first week. Now marsh and Melody only ot 5*+ but he’s going out with Rocksey to stay in our Finca in the hills. Rocksey says Marsh can help with his solo album hes writing “Bandidos Dios Y El Diablo”  he can play the tambourine and maracas he states.

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Now the last time Marsh & Rocksey went away was to Istanbul and its a few years ago now. Rocksey was celebrating his divorce from the WITCH ! ! ! ! And spending some of the money him and the accountant had managed to hide away from the courts.

It was only night 2 and Rocksey SP and marsh had gone out early , they had found a Bar with a shish pipes which has SP as happy as. While watching the world pass by Rocksey sees Marsh skuttling across the floor, as his head appears above the table  Rocksey asks WTF are you up to Marsh responds look what ive found showing a green lump in his hand.

Throw it away Rocksey says No way says marsh, Now this comotion has attracted the attention of SP “what you got ?” Marsh shows him , now SP isnt known for speed but he could have beaten a Leopard with his reactions removing the green lump from Marsh’s hand and putting a clump in his pipe. Whats it like asked marsh, SP didnt answer as his eyes glazed over . Marsh hadnt a pipe or rolling papers so he just ATE yes ATE it ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Rocksey shook his head and ordered himself another beer knowing he was on his own this night . Putting his heels on the low table Rocksey now watched the world spin past Marsh in ever decreasing circles SP was in a MELLOW world of his own But MARSH well he was bouncing off the walls with his normal exuberance. With the same effect as a child throwing a power ball against the floor.

Marsh suggested a trip to the local Club Rocksey didnt want but Marsh insisted on checking with SP who said “it cool its cool” Rocksey & Marsh set off. Now Rockseyonew nothing good could come from this night. Just as they rounded the corner The Bus to the centre of town was in so Rocksey ran and jumped on holding on to the bar in the rear door Rocksey turned to see Marsh sort of running yes sort of running. It was the first time Rocksey had seen anyon running in SLOW MOTION and yes Marsh was running in slow motion just like the 6 million dollar man but much much slower, the whole bus was now watching as marsh mad the 40 mtr dash last moe than 3 minutes with each step he seemed to get sower and slower with his arms getting wilder and wilder, eventually he looked just like monty python minestry of silly walks. Rocksey stepped off the bus and spun Marsh in the direction of the hotel.

On arriving on the Hotel marsh got the room keys and led the bouncing Marsh towards the escalators. Youll be on on these he asked, no one but an alien would have understood the babbling that came from Marsh but Rocksey took that as a yes. Now Rocksey stepped onto the up escalator as Marsh started trying to run up the down escalator a race he would never win.

Patience has never been a number 1 trait of Rockseys but this time he excelled himself standing at the top of the escalator as Marsh kept on trying and trying. You had to admire him. Now 10 or 15 minutes passed and Rocksey decided to assist Marsh, so in normal style Rocksey phoned front desk and asked them to assist the lunatic to his room.

Rocksey tipped the bell boy and decided to leave Marsh where he fell. So putting late night with Letterman on the Tv and opening a bottle of Bud Rocksey sat back  in the chair, toasting Marsh for another entertaining night out……. WHAT COULD GO WRONG NEXT SUMMER I ASK

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How to lose a night drinking champagne

We have just come back from a lovely Sunday lunch date out with Rockseys parents. Although now Mr Rocksey, my dad in law is 80 in May and Mrs Rocksey a sprightly 77 years old they still love to tell a good story-especially if it involves a very young Rocksey!!

Rockseys mom and dad  were the epitome of cool in the 1960’s. I love looking at photographs of them looking like something from the Austin Powers movies and Mrs Rockseys tales of ‘ the London Scene’ and Carnaby Street, chance meetings with rockstars of the day and her love story with Mr Rocksey.

One of my favourite stories which involves a young Rocksey is the yearly family holiday to a farm in Cornwall where Rocksey (apparently) would get up at the crack of dawn to help the farmer milk the cows, feed chickens and generally spend all day having small boy adventures whilst Mr Rocksey spent his day fishing and Mrs Rocksey would sit in a sun lounger  topping up her tan and on return home regale their friends with tales about their wild times in St Tropez partying with rockstars on yachts in the Med!!! ( I think she probably got found out in the end but by that time they had already started to holiday in Europe)!.

Holidays in Spain in the 1960’s was the pinnacle of foreign travel for those who could afford the 39 Guinea price tag. Whilst my sister and I were holidaying  one week a year at Butlins packed in the back of a Morris Minor the top speed of which was about 45 miles an hour ( and my first foreign holiday was not until I was 18!) Rocksey was staring excitedly out of the window of a plane in Gatwick (a once small provincial airport) on his way to LLoret De Mar in the Costa Blanca.

At lunch today, Mr Rocksey regaled us with a tale of this very holiday and not one which I had heard before.  They had arrived very excitedly for their weeks holiday in Spain not quite sure what to expect as this was the first time for all of them  ‘abroad’. It was very hot, Mrs Rocksey recalled, there was no air conditioning so of course we had to keep the windows open. Rocksey remembered the window opened into the courtyard of the hotel where the staff took their meals and the smell of olive oil would waft up every evening. Mr Rocksey claims that even today, he can still smell olive oil when he thinks about Spain.

Anyway their first evening they happen to stroll into the hotel bar after a walk along the seafront. There are a few other couples of similar ages all having a simply lovely time. What are you drinking? Mr Rocksey sees large bottles on the table. Champagne mate, a man from Manchester waves a bottle at him it’s 2’6 a bottle- it’s bloody lovely stuff. Rockseys mom and dad think this is a good price and it looks like Babysham so they order a bottle and sit down with the others introducing themselves. It’s so hot, both inside and out, the champagne is ice cold, tastes divine and goes down a treat – tasted like lemonade- Mr Rocksey recalls.

Fast forward a couple of hours, the bar has been drunk dry of champagne, the English contingent are having a sing song which turns a bit raucous, the Spanish staff try to calm things down, words are exchanged and the bloke from Manchester throws a punch at a bloke from Barcelona, a fight breaks out and the Police arrive. Mrs Rocksey leaves the bar in a hurry with Rocksey ( he is only 8 years old  after all !!) but Mr Rocksey is nowhere to be seen.

The next morning, Mrs Rocksey wakes up with a very sore head but still no sigh of Mr Rocksey. Slightly worried , she and Rocksey go down to breakfast. Mum, mum , mum, little Rocksey pulls at Mrs Rockseys arm, – look dads already by the pool!! Mr Rocksey is fast asleep  – in yesterday’s clothes –  on a sunlounger. Mrs R is not impressed, grabbing a jug of iced water from the buffet table she stomps over to the sunlounger and tips the whole jug of water over Mr R’s head. A loud screech ensues as Mr Rocksey jumps up awakened from his slumber not actually quite knowing where he is or even who he is ( for anyone reading this who has not had a champagne hangover- this is normal), he staggers about cursing before (as if in slow motion), falling head first into the pool. After what seems like a lifetime, he bursts up through the water, coughing and spluttering and hauls himself out to lie motionless again by the side of the pool. Rocksey thinks his dad is dead and runs around screaming. Mrs R is mortified by her husband showing her up in front of the now packed dining room and pool area and stomps off to lie down in the shade. 

Hours later, Mr R has finally sobered up, even a glass of lemonade made me drunk again he reminisced and the headache lasted nearly all week , spends the day chomping aspirin and staying out of Mrs R’s way. Turns out, whilst drinking the champagne he kept thinking that he wasn’t drunk, wasn’t feeling drunk and , sitting down , hadn’t realised that he, after a couple of bottles, had completely lost the use of his legs. By the time the fight broke out, on seeing Mrs R and Little Rocksey safely leaving the bar, Mr R tried to follow them. I got up- he recalled, or thought I had, but my legs wouldn’t work and all I actually managed to do was slither off the chair and under the table. After the Police left after some threatening the bloke from Manchester with a night in the cells unless he went straight to bed, Mr R crawled out of the bar, but not being able to remember the room number ( or even his own name at this point in the proceedings), he found a sunlounger and fell into a deep drunken sleep, woken abruptly by the torrent of ice cold water thrown over him by his wife a few hours lat

The remainder of the holiday passes without further disruption, the family spend time together, enjoying the Spanish sunshine.  Mr R does not drink champagne again and doesn’t see the bloke from Manchester auntil they are safely back at the airport. Mrs R goes home with a straw donkey and a tan to die for and Rocksey has ( unbeknown to him at this time) a love of Spain that will last him a lifetime.

Now I am sure that Mr R  is not the first nor the last person to have a (now) funny story with regard to an evening drinking champagne or indeed a night lost on champagne………..I would like to hear your story!!!

a vive Mexico

Rocksey and I are on holiday on the Riveria Maya  in Mexico having a well deserved break from the miserable weather back home.

It’s quite easy to forget that it’s cold and dark by 4pm when it’s 30 C  and the sun has got his hat on and there’s a smiley waiter offering beers as if they were going out of fashion. So this is my fantasy life for the next couple of weeks where I can forget about regular life and responsibilities. Rockseys mum is house sitting and making sure the chickens and cats are being looked after, the kids have all gone back to their own lives after spending a few days over Christmas with us and all Rocksey and I have to do is look after each other.

Sometimes, and I’m pretty certain this happens with all long term couples, you definitely need to spend some time reconnecting with each other and this is why we all need a holiday when there are no other distractions and you can remember why you fell in love with each other all over again. Rocksey and I like pretty much everyone we know, work hard most of the year and although we spend every evening together sometimes we are both so preoccupied with other stuff we just don’t actually acknowledge how much we value each other. 

It has been two weeks since I started this post and as in most vacations, the time taking doing nothing speeds by and you don’t actually have time to do anything else! Our first day we looked at the Noticeboard which advertises all those things you could do whilst in paradise. Yoga at 8am, a bike ride or Spanish classes at 9am, horse riding, scuba diving, kayaking, archery, cooking classes etc etc, the list was endless and these were just for the physical activities which obviously did not include, tequila tasting, tours of ancient monuments and evenings out shopping, bar crawling or generally doing stuff which means getting off the sun lounger one in a while. Of course, Rocksey and I were full of great intentions and apart from one bike ride we pretty much failed as a couple to ‘get involved’!!

However, our holiday has been spend doing what we enjoy doing most and that is being with each other with no commitments to be anywhere or with anyone else, we get our lives back for 2 weeks, the phone doesn’t ring, the emails are answered with the automatic ‘out of office’ response and Rocksey and I lay on hammocks with beer and tequila making idyll plans which mostly involve where to eat later.

Of course, the time is not completely wasted, having made a pact to speak only Spanish to the resort staff we easily practice the language. Rocksey more than me as he can converse with less difficulty than I but I have a go and left alone to my own devices ( well spending a n hour at a painting class) I make small talk with the girl supervising – the conversation mostly revolved round simple topics ie have you any children, where do you have etc…however, this was my first attempt ( without Rocksey) to make a conversation with someone whose English was similar to my Spanish and we got by, I am actually very proud of myself for this attempt!

Although staying in a 5 star resort is very different to actually living in a country, the laid back lifestyle and of course, the weather, has made us both more determined to make the move to Spain. We have glanced at properties in Mexico and although by far cheaper than anywhere we have ever seen, it remains a fact that a flight is 10 1/2 hours from the UK and we would be very much isolated from our friends and family, whereas Malaga is only 2 hours away. And 30C in January, although lovely on holiday still feels a bit weird! At least in Spain with a temperature of around 20C in January I might still have the opportunity to wear a pair of boots!!.

Talking of which, in town we spotted a shop selling Mexican cowboy boots, the smell of new leather proved too much for Rocksey and in we went. He is now the proud owner of several new pairs of boots ncluding a spectacular red pair with orange and yellow flames licking the sides……….stage wear of course he says giving me a cheeky wink. Hmmmm, knowing Rockseya s I do, those boots will never be prised off his feet!!. 
So in an hour or two we will be off to the airport in Cancun and making our way back to England to the lowly temperatures of 2C.However, with this in mind, there are still a couple of hours left in paradise, my favourite waiter has just turned up with a smile and a Pina Colada with my name on it and I am off to wriggle my toes in the sand one last time. 

La Vida Es Muy Buena, es Excellente!!! Hasta Luego mis Amigos!!

Lord and Lady of The Manor

Rocksey and I were invited to a Soiree. The invitation transpired from when we went out for Christmas drinks with the Spanish class gang. Now Rocksey and I , being different levels of fluency, are in separate classes but I go along to his party and he comes to mine. Having the same teacher helps with the fluidity between classes and over the years we have found  that we get double the fun by attending all parties!

So last week it was Rockseys class dinner at an Italian Restaurant in the centre of town. Upstairs there was an office Christmas party in full swing and downstairs where we were a smattering of smaller parties enjoying a more sedate evening. The evening went well,  the red wine flowed, the chavvy girls from the party upstairs ebbed and flowed around us as we conversed in Spanish with the Albanian owner of the Italian restaurant. Now Rocksey is the only man in his class and , so he believes, the only one leading a charmed life. However, one of the other women in the class also has lived a charmed life and at 61 and several marriages has climbed to an enviable position of being Lady of the Manor of a very pretty village wihtin the County. Now  there are responsibilities that come with buying the village Manor. Not only does the title of Lord come with the property the Manor house would have historically held parties for the villagers at key times of the year, Easter, May Day and of course, Christmas.

Veronika and husband Pieter bought the Manor House several years ago and not being ‘native’ villagers have worked hard to ensure that that they deliver the expectations of the villagers  despite actually being of Polish origin which may have historically made them workers rather than the lords of the Manor.  Pieter still looks like he should be the gardener athough you would never, in a million years, mistake Veronika for anything other than the Lady of the house. 
So after several geneous glasses of Screaming Eagle, Veronika is in a benevolent mood.  She likes Rocksey – possibly because she was once the muse of  Keith Richards –  and still enjoys the rock chick  vibe  – she engages him in conversation as to the dilemma she has that she and Pieter have to hold a Soiree for the villagers next Saturday  evening – a total  of around 80 people. Theres just not enough interesting people coming – she waved the glass at Rocksey, – what I need is someone to stir these country folk up a bit. Rocksey looked at her blankly. He had had a few glasses of JD at this stage but hadn’t quite got what Veronika was getting at. She tried again – What I need is a bit of entertainment – do you still do an acoustic set? Ahhhh the lightbulb goes on in Rockseys head. Yes he nods enthusiastically, can I dress up as a waiter too? 

This Saturday evening sees us pulling up outside the grandest house I have ever seen. Its been snowing all day and the driveway is magical with fairy lights twinkling in every tree and shrub. Senor Pinguino is beside hiself with excitement, Jack Bennett feigns coolness and Mr Lucky sprays Gold Spot in the anticipation of getting himself a Polish Princess for the evening. Suky, Saf and I are dressed to kill in the finest LBD’s we have in our wardrobes. Suky has the highest heels on , luckily between the driveway and the house entrance is an actual red carpet to stop the guests from slipping around

Pieter himself is doing the Meet and Greet. He is a bear of a man , self made milionaire (or Billionaire now….I’m not sure) and dressed in a Chanel Tux does not look like the gardener this evening! ‘ Dobry Wieczor ‘ – we all get 3 kisses and the obligatory kiss on the hand on bended knee for us ‘ladies’.  We enter the biggest hall I have seen outside of a hotel, all wood panelling with a huge fir tree in the corner decked out with thousands of fairy lights. A harpest plays some twinkly music and we wander into one of the reception rooms to be met by our hostess who has the most elegant Valentino gown on and looks absolutely stunning. She kisses Rocksey warmly, greets the rest of the guys and ushers a waiter over to us with champagne and canapés.  Are you sure you want to play waiter? she teases Rocksey. Yes sure he smiles, grabs a bottle of champagne from the waiter and waltzes off, dashing in his Armani suit. The guys go off with Veronika to set up in another room and we three wander out on to the terrace where it has started to snow lighty and another waiter hands us a pashmina each ‘ in case we get cold’

Oh this is the life sighs Suky. I laugh out loud. Suky and SP live the most outrageous rock n roll lifestyle and here she is now wanting to be the lady of the manor. Not enough money says Saf  – we couldn’t ever dream of this.!
We go back in the house. The villagers have turned up and although there are plenty of ordinary folk around, the village is a very well to do enclave and there are several other couples who probably could give Pieter  and Veronika a run for their money.

I spot Rocksey in the crowd, flirting outrageously with a gaggle of country matrons who may have possibly recognised him ( or not, Rocksey loves to flirt). Mr Lucky is engaged in conversation with a very beautiful young woman, Jack has found Saf and the pair of them lean against each other looking impossibly cool. SP and Suky are chatting to Pieter ( I learn later they got invited to spend a few weeks in St Tropez at P and V’s villa or yacht or both who knows for sure)!  I flit around enjoying both the ambience as well as the novelty of anonymity admiring everything about Veronikas impeccable  taste and storing ideas in my head as to how I can decorate Rocksey Towers this season.

A buffet is served and then Veronika introduces the band who launch into an acoustic set of classic Christmas songs and joined by the  harpest and the local church choir for a rendition of The Snowman. It is beautiful and nothing that  I had expected.  Veronika and Pieter get the guests dancing to Fairy tale of New York and Suky, Saf and I fuelled by copious amounts of Champagne finish the evening off with our version of Christmas Wrapping by the Waitresses.

The evening has been a great success apart from  Mr Lucky’s whose Polish Princesses Prince Charming roared up in his Ferrari at midnight. The villagers go off happy with their presents of Estate produced turkeys and ducks. We stay on for a nighcap and then make our way into the night. Veronika slips  something into Rockseys coat pocket murmers something in incomprensible Polish in his ear and waves us off.

Sunday morning I find a crumpled £10 note in Rockseys pocket. I wave it at him when he emerges from the shower. Payment for my excellent waitering skills he grins. I am glad to know if the record company ever drops the band we won’t starve!