Читать книгу No One Said It Would Be Easy - Des Molloy - Страница 27

20

Gestation

were almost unrideable, with the loads not being distributed well enough. Frantically changes were made and way too late we were off, for better or for worse, clinging to the notion that we would put it right on ‘the other side'.

For a lot of years, my building jobs had been all over London including south of the river, whilst the flats I'd lived in had all been north of the Thames. Transiting from the south to the north often took me past an arrowed sign which said Tilbury Docks, so at least I knew where we needed to get to.

Thinking “Shit, this will be close!” we wobbled our way through the stop-start suburbs towards the docks. Down the High St, we crossed the North Circular and achingly slowly passed through East Finchley and Highgate, onto the Archway Road and into the old City of London and finally to the turn-off to Tilbury Docks. Almost majestically we swept around the curving exit to what I hoped would be the wharves and a relieved welcome from eager stevedores awaiting our belated arrival. The sight and sensation of that moment lives with me to this day. The road led onto The Embankment and under a bridge and there before us, was a large two-posted road sign proclaiming TILBURY 34 Miles. My heart sank as I knew this was down to me … I was the local expert … I knew where Tilbury was. Bugger, bugger, bugger! There was no option but to carry on, clinging to the hope that for some reason the departure was delayed.

In life, not everything goes your way all of the time … and this was one of those times. My emotions included pending-humiliation. I knew what my robust rugby club mates would soon be articulating.

“What Plonkers, couldn’t even get to the boat on time!”

“Typical half-arse Molloy!”

I knew that many of the young guys at the rugby club envied our laid-back, cruisy lifestyle. We’d invite some to come along on summer adventures, but they would always say that they couldn’t because they had jobs. We’d always opine that they could get another one when they got back and the hesitation indicated what they would like to do, not aligning with what they would do. Our friendships, however, didn’t mean that they didn’t secretly hope that we would fall on our faces occasionally. I know they enjoyed the vitality the colonials brought to the previously staid ‘old boy’ world of London rugger. The Aussies, Kiwis and South Africans brought a different dynamic and we could always be relied upon to bring a coterie of stunning young women to social events.