The train journey back from our lovely holiday in Orkney was
a little melancholy.
But the gold at the end of the rainbow was that Carenza was
returning home after three months’ solo back-packing in South East Asia.
I had never met anybody at an airport before and neither had
Will. My only experience was watching Love Actually far more times than I care
to recount. Will, who came too, had more
experience – he had seen the Gavin and Stacey episode where they return from
honeymoon.
“The Mum makes this stupidly huge banner, then she forces
the Dad, who’s embarrassed, to hold the other end at the airport…….What’s that
you’re carrying, Clare?”
“Um. A banner. I’ve rolled it up to make it portable.”
“Looks quite… large. How big would you say it was?”
“Kitchen table sized.”
To do him justice, when we reached Airport Arrivals, Will
barely put up a fight as I placed the stick in his hand. He also held up his own discreet and
beautifully made banner.
Many people who came through the gate crowed with delight at
the large pink banner. Blonde girls
seemed particularly to like it which was a good sign.
However, it clearly ruined some people’s day – those who
were being met by relatives with less sizeable banners expressed their
disappointment resentfully.
For quite a long time we stood there at the ready.
“I’m beginning to get banner burn.”
“Yep, my banner hand’s gone numb.”
But when Carenza finally arrived, the banner didn’t matter
at all.
After she had diplomatically expressed appreciation for our
art efforts, we rolled up my banner , thrust it in the bin and went home with
our girl.
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