Are We Nearly There Yet by Ben Hatch
The splurge of bags on the pavement is so huge and unruly it reminds me of news footage of a French baggage handlers’ strike. It’s bad enough going on a week’s holiday with two under- fours. But packing for a five-month road trip – you’d struggle to get all this in a Pickfords van.
‘Two more for you, love,’ Dinah says brightly, shuttling from the hall to the kerb with two more suitcases I’m expected to find room for.
‘Do these contain any more pairs of your boots?’
‘Getting stressed, love?’ says Dinah.
‘No, but it’s like being on the bloody Krypton Factor. Inside these two rectangular spaces – the boot and the roof box – there’s only one way to fit all these incredibly complicated three-dimensional shapes.’
‘Well, this is clothes.’ ‘Honestly?’ ‘What are you saying, Ben?’
‘Dinah, are there any more shoes of any description in these two bags?’
She laughs. ‘Darling, I’ve packed all my shoes.’
‘Because I’m going to open them and check.’
‘I thought we agreed no shouting this morning.’ I start undoing the zip of the first one.
‘OK, OK,’ says Dinah, rushing forward, delving into the case and pulling out a pair of black heels.
‘I can’t believe you.’
‘It’s just one pair, Ben.’
That you actually wrapped in a towel to disguise!’ ‘
You’re not a girl. You don’t understand.’
It takes an hour to cram it all in and when I’m done, without blowing my own trumpet, it’s a piece of genius. I walk into the kitchen, arms aloft. ‘And tonight’s winner with a Krypton factor of forty-six is Ben Hatch, the computer programmer from Yeoooooovvvvvvil. You’ve got to look at this.’
Dinah follows me outside. ‘You got the travel cot in, then?’ ‘In the roof box.’
‘Very good. And the kids’ clothes bag?’ She peers into the car.
‘Between their seats. Nice one.’
‘Told you.’
‘Oh dear, are you going to tell me again how only a man can pack a boot?’
‘I am. We have a natural feel for space. That’s why we load dishwashers. And how many professional female snooker players are there?’
‘What?’
‘How many pro snooker players are women? I’ll tell you: none.’
‘You know that, do you?’
‘Yep. Angles, you see. We know about angles. We know how many bumper packets of Pampers size five nappies will fit behind a wheel arch. You see?’
‘Three,’ she says.
‘Exactly. And come round here. We know just how far you can squidge down a cool box containing breakable bottles of Dolmio Original Bolognese Sauce. We know to hold back padded items such as jumpers to stuff down the sides of a Halfords 250-litre roof box to reduce suitcase shunt.’
I open the roof box again. ‘Very good,’ she says.
‘Shall I tell you how we do it? What we do is carefully hold a mental picture in our heads of everything that must be packed, the size and dimensions of the whole as well as how each packed item reduces this overall.’
‘That’s what you do, is it?’ ‘That’s how we do it.’ ‘And everything’s in?’
‘Everything’s in.’
‘You sure?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Including the double buggy that was down the side return about two minutes ago that I told you you’d forget?’
‘Oh!’
‘And the big green suitcase that was upstairs on our bed that I reminded you this morning was too heavy for me to bring downstairs?’
‘I thought you brought that down.’
‘And, by the way,’ Dinah says turning to go. ‘That Dolmio sauce is leaking.’
She holds up an orange-stained fingertip.
‘WE ARE NEVER GOING TO LEAVE HERE!’
Are We Nearly There Yet by Ben Hatch is published by Summersdale (paperback; £8.99). It is also available through amazon.com and all good booksellers.
