“Mum! What’s this island off India”? Plot looked up from her phone, “it’s probably Sri Lanka” she called back.
“Nope, Sri Lanka is at the bottom, I can see it, this is different”
Plot sighed, and got up. In a futile bid to feel almost middle class, if only for a moment, Plot had bought a wipeable tablecloth featuring a tasteful world map, in John Lewis when she visited her Uni chum in Dundee.
Plot knew that she wasn’t middle class, there is no John Lewis in Northern Ireland, and therefore, no Waitrose, and apparently you can’t be be properly middle class without them. She couldn’t even aspire to be “Overheard in Waitrose’ because of yet another planning application clusterfuck, and being overheard in M&S didn’t quite have the same ring to it. But she had a John Lewis tablecloth, and that was a start.
The tablecloth satisfied Plot’s pretentious aspirations and interest in geography all in one go, it was a win win, and being wipe clean, it was boy proof. She had a look at what her son was pointing at, sure enough there was a previously un noticed island off the coast of India, in the Arabian Sea, halfway between Kochi and Goa.
Plot was puzzled, she couldn’t remember what this island was and it bothered her; she had studied Geography at University, and felt that she really ought to have some memory of it.
Now to be fair this was some considerable time ago now, in fact Plot had to go back to the dark ages before google to remember when she graduated never mind what she had allegedly learnt beforehand. She had studied arid and quaternary geomorphology, slept through hydrology, and fluffed her way in Soil Science and European Geography. Though a good start, it left her high and dry with the finer points of the Sub Continent – she needed help.
Dr Google to the rescue – there was no Google back in the day, Plot remembered days before Wikipedia when you still looked things up in books! There was no island listed. Maybe it was an old island, that had disappeared or something. Plot decided to ask her friend Arv who might know. He had written a series about Jaipur then and now, so he had some historic photographs, he might have the answer?
Arv looked confused, as there was no record of any such island, could it be be some mistake?
He had a good look through his documents, Arv had an extensive collection of pictures featuring temple complexes in and around Jaipur, but not so much about mysterious, unheard of islands off the coast.
“Maybe the island predates photography”, he suggested, “and was wiped out by a catastrophic global event? You could try talking to Planet Simon; he is the man to talk to about meteorites or asteroids, if that is what caused it to disappear”.
Plot had visions of a mysterious object falling to Earth, maybe even one from the Kuiper Belt, where material left over from the creation of the solar system, orbits the Sun at its gravitational limit. Simon looked unconvinced, “I’m pretty sure I would have heard of that, and there would be evidence in the geological record”.
Plot delved into the dark recesses of her memory, back in time to the early 90’s when she should have been studying a (historical) catastrophic tsunami in Alaska allegedly caused by a meteorite; but was actually more concerned with stage diving at a Carter USM concert. There had been no mention of anything off the coast of India.
Plot had mentioned the same concert to Hayley, during a ‘Top Ten’ discussion at the Blogger’s Arms, only to find out that Hayley was on first name terms with the band and she was more than a little bit envious! It is entirely possible that on the way home, Plot may have sulked a bit; playing Sheriff Fat Man at louder than reasonable levels through the more refined parts of the town, (not that she would ever admit it).
All this reminiscing was messing with Plot’s space-time continuum. She couldn’t quite reconcile the fact that almost thirty years had passed since her glory days, nor could she get her head around the increased space that she now took up. It was all rather disturbing.
The dulcet tones of Plot’s eldest son brought her back into the present day; he had inherited his mother’s lungs.
“I’ve spilt my juice – help!”
Plot went racing to the table with a cloth to mop up the mess. Once everything was cleared up she had another look at the map, the mysterious island was gone, and Plot could smell a rat. She thought back to the previous night’s dinner; spaghetti bolognaise, Son No.1 didn’t exactly have a great reputation for being a neat eater. It all started to make sense, the mysterious island was nothing more than a stray jap of spaghetti sauce that had been missed during the clear up.
Oh FFS! Thought Plot, I really need to get my eyes tested, and she buggered off to console herself with a cup of tea and a catch up with her favourite blogs.