WRONG DIRECTION

The must have gift for Christmas that year was an in-car navigation system. Cynth gave Sid one. She bought it from Halfords, the biggish one out on the edge of town next to the new ASDA. Sid was thrilled to bits. He sort of knew that Cynth would go for it and get him the sat-nav he wanted. He’d given enough hints.

“You’re the worst bloody map reader in the world.” He’d told Cynth on many outings even though she wasn’t that bad.

“What we need is one of those in-car satellite navigation systems. They’re really affordable now and would save us a bundle on petrol.”

“How do you work that one out?” asked Cynth.

“Well it figures doesn’t it? The system will show us the shortest route to take so we’ll save on fuel.”

“Hmm,” said Cynth making a mental note to look out for one for Sid’s Christmas present.

Under the tinsel tree on its plastic stand Sid knew that the box wrapped in funny reindeer paper contained the sat-nav he wanted.

“You may as well let me have it now,” he pinned to Cynth.

“You can jolly well wait until Christmas morning.” came the reply. So Sid waited.

When Cynth and Sid emerged on Christmas morning feeling very much the worse for wares because of the Christmas Eve session at the Rose and Crown it didn't take them them long to open the few presents under the tree.

Sure enough Sid found the sat-nav he had wanted and he gave Cynth a big hug and a squeeze.

“Thanks honey,” he said and Cynth could see that her man was happy.

“We'll try it out when we go to Sal and Graham's for lunch.” Sid was keen.

“But we know the way to Sal and Graham's stupid,” said Cynth.

“Well we'll test it out all the same, see if it works OK.” Sid went back upstairs to have his Christmas morning shower and get dressed while Cynth put the best of “TakeThat” on the CD player and tucked into her bacon sandwich.

The mid morning journey to Sal and Graham's wasn't that far. As the crow flies it was about fifteen miles and Sid's Ford Focus knew the route off by heart.

“The car knows the way without that,” said Cynth as Sid plugged in the sat-nav to the hole for the cigarette lighter. He pressed the buttons and with Cynth's help from the instruction booklet the couple were soon being spoken to through the sat-nav.

“Oh err,” giggled Cythn. “She's got a funny voice.”

Sid rather liked her tone.

“She sounds a bit like Carol Vorderman off of Countdown.”

“Don't be daft Sid. She don't sound anything like that,” said Cynth as Sid slipped the car into first gear and headed off, actually “proceeded” , in the direction he'd been told to.

The instructions came thick and fast and Sid obeyed even though he wouldn't normally have taken that route.

“We don't normally go this way,” said Cynth.

“I know luv. That's sat-nav for you. It'll be taking us the quickest way, you'll see.” Sid was rather enjoying being told where to go by another woman.

“Aye luv.” He nudged Cynth in the ribs.”It makes a change from having you telling me where to go.” They both laughed.

“Take the next available turning on the left, “ said Carol Vorderman and when the next available left turn appeared Sid swung the Ford Focus round the corner.

“This can't be right.” Cynth sounded more than a note of caution. “Are you sure you've set the sat-nav up right?”

Sid was sure.

“I did everything the book told me to,” he said.

After nearly an hour of driving and following precisely the instructions from the sat-nav Sid and Cynth were getting more and more tetchy with each other.

“All I said was why don't we stop and look at the map.” Cynth was trying to be helpful.

“We don't need a friggin' map.” Sid wasn't in the mood for Cynth's helpfulness.

“We're normally there in forty minutes at the most.” Cynth was looking at her watch.

“I know we are,” shouted Sid drowning out the latest instruction from Carol Vorderman. “Now you've made me miss the bloody turn.” Sid had missed the turning and was asked to do a U-turn as soon as possible by the unflustered guide.

“There's no need to shout at me like that,” Cynth was beginning to get very upset.

“Well you bought the bloody thing,” said Sid firmly passing all the blame on to his wife.

“You were the one who had to have the bloody gadget in the first place. I want it . I want it I want it.” Cynth mimicked the pleading of a spoilt child.

“Don't be such a pratt.”

“Pratt's are useful.”

“WELL YOU'RE FUCKING NOT.” Sid screamed at Cynth with such rage that the car swerved in sympathy.

“WATCH YOUR FUCKING DRIVING.” Cynth screamed back.

“IF YOU DON'T FUCKING LIKE IT YOU CAN FUCKING WELL WALK.”

“RIGHT.” Cynth screamed.”I FUCKING WILL.”

Sid brought the car to a sudden halt and even before the tyres had finished their squealing Cynth had leapt out and slammed the door with the sort of force that could be heard several streets away.

Sid sped off not really giving the Ford Focus any time to think about being stationary at all.

“Take the next turning on the right” said the sat-nav and Sid did as he was told at speed.

“In two hundred yards you will have reached your destination.” Sid didn't recognise where he was. His blood pressure was as high as his engine's revs and he was very angry.

“You have arrived at your destination.” The sat-nav was quite clear as once again Sid applied the brakes with force slidding along side a covered bus shelter. The car behind only just managed to avoid running into the Ford Focus and hooted past as Sid jumped out.

“Where the fuck are we?” Sid asked out aloud to no one but himself.

There was a well dressed woman waiting for the bus and Sid decided that he would ask where he was.

“Excuse me luv,” he said. “I'm lost.”

“No you're not,” said Carol Vorderman in her unmistakable Countdown voice.

“You've found me. Happy Christmas.”