Winging it

Wee Scottie dog (www.zandrascreations.com) struck dumb in horror…

Shortly after I met the future Mr McG, he suggested a holiday together. Now, I’m a sucker for holidays. Especially on an island far, far away. So a trip was duly planned.

Some time earlier, during a random getting-to-know-you conversation, he’d asked me if I played chess. Chess? Of course I played chess I replied. As one does. (I reckoned I could pick it up...I mean how hard could it be?)

To my (slight) concern (but I mean, really, how hard COULD it be??), he purchased a travel chess pack at the airport. (Surely we’d be too busy on our island hideaway to play chess???)

To my much greater concern, indeed horror, he brought out the chess set after lunch (yeah, lunch was served on airplanes in those days) and suggested a game. YES, I cried with huge enthusiasm, wondering if I could hide in the loo for the rest of the flight.

You start, he said. Fuck. I stared at the board for a long while, toyed with a piece or two, my mind a panicky blank, before finally saying, um... could you just remind me how each piece moves?

He looked at me quizzically for a bit. Smiled gently. And put the board away. And it was never mentioned again. And I mean ever.