Our mam in Torquay part three. Sir Johnny Laurence, from the sublime to the ridiculous.
We had a fantastic Christmas, the three of us together for the first time in years.
Andrew joined us for a couple of days and I was, as far as I am capable, pleasant to him.
Eventually the fateful day had come.
With a couple of bottles of champagne on ice.
We watched and listened to every news broadcast for the announcement of the New years honours list.
Every time "Sir John Laurence" was mentioned, cheering, we downed copious amounts of Laurent-Perrier.
My phone and text's were alive all day with calls and messages of congratulation including every one from my cleaner to the prime minister.
It was not long before the appointed day arrived.
Dressed in my finest top hat and morning suit, the girls in their posh frocks, we all headed to Buckingham Palace.
There were far more people there than I had expected as we were ushered into the ballroom for our briefing.
I was particularly taken by a group of younger, (obviously athletes) girls and their very tasty chaperone, mid late thirties? I thought.
After a thorough briefing, each recipient was called forward, the pin had already been attached for the gong to be placed.
The girls were all awarded MBE's for their gold medal achievement in the world games.
Finally my turn came, I knelt on one knee on a little stool in front of the king, he tipped my shoulder with the sword.
"I dub thee Knight, arise Sir John."
That was it, outside now for the obligatory pictures and my first duty as a knight of the realm.
It didn't take me long to escape the photographers and reporters, I soon spotted my target.
Hello, Johnny Laurence. I was so impressed with your wonderful achievement and deserved reward, it's so nice to meet you all, I followed your performance at the games, well done.
Now if I said, I had never looked at a single athletic competition in my life, it would be nearer to the truth.
They looked at me for a moment hesitant at what to say and how to address me.
"Sir John, thank you for taking time to talk to us."
Please, Johnny, call me Johnny, I will never get used to the title.
I directed my response directly to the group chaperone.
"Megan Morgan," "I was their trainer it was a fantastic achievement and time for us."
Moving my target to one side.
Can I ask how did the girls get an honour today and not you?
"Oh! Well actually I got a 'DBE' in the late Queen's birthday honours, perhaps one of her last official duty's before she passed away."
Please excuse my ignorance I should have realised.
Tell me Megan where are you from and how did you get here.
"Well Johnny that's a long story but I am originally from Swansea."
Go for it Johnny, it's an open goal.
Are you staying in London overnight? If you are free it would be a great honour if you would agree to (let me fuck you) join me for a drink or even a little supper later?
" thank you, I am at the Kensington."
Seven thirty?
"Yes looking forward to it."
I will call you from reception.
Johnny you old dog, your first official appointment.
I had a light tea with the girls and they went off happily back to life's relentless trawl.
As soon as I got home to my flat I looked up "Megan Morgan" on Google.
She was a double world champion gymnast, also was gold medal winning team coach at last years world championships.
She was born in Swansea, and currently is strength and fitness development coach at a well known north midlands sporting university.
Nothing about husbands or children.
Could be an interesting evening.
I arrived at the hotel a little before seven thirty and asked reception to let her know I was here.
The receptionist, called me over.
Room 476, could you go up Ms Morgan is a little delayed.
Open goal Johnny, open goal.
