A few years’ ago having tearily (not) despatched my nieces for a Sea Cadet camping weekend, my sister and I set about driving to Torquay, the English Riviera no less, for a spot of lunch and some shopping. We made some serious dents in our credit cards and lunched in our favourite pub. By the time we had finished with our Irish coffees we were fit to burst but clearly not so much that we couldn’t continue on our shopping spree.
It was fairly late when we returned to the car park and it was beginning to get dark so we loaded up the boot with all our swag and headed off home. On the way my sister who was driving, said that she knew a short cut so we headed off the beaten track across country.
For some reason she decided to tell me that these remote country lanes reminded her of the horror flick “Wrong Turn” and proceeded to talk me through the plot. My sister and the girls are die-hard horror flick fans through and through but me not so much. In fact, I’m ashamed to admit it but I still hide behind the sofa when Doctor Who is aired and on the odd occasion when I’ve been channel hopping and come across a vampire movie I’ve spent a sleepless night with the lights on, a garlic bulb and a framed picture of the Pope (in the absence of a crucifix) trying to keep demons at bay.
Beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable I decided to phone Dyson Abbey to alert them that we were homeward bound to discover that we had no mobile signal. Now distinctly uneasy, particularly as my sister continued to talk me through the slasher part of the film, we realised that we were hopelessly lost and hadn’t passed any other vehicles for some time. We identified a couple of figures ahead in the fog so we pulled over to ask directions. Believe me when I tell you that these good old country boys resembled the mutant family of cannibals from the Hills Have Eyes. Never before had my Grandma’s phrase of “you see some sights when you’ve not got your gun with you” seemed more appropriate.
Regretting our decision to stop we politely asked directions to be met with rousing laughter. The older one of the two spoke first and leaning into the window “You’m lucky to have caught me and my boy, we’re just on us way home, lost are ye”? He said grinning from ear to ear with a mouthful of rotten teeth.
I admitted to being spoken for but my sister …… before I could finish that sentence she had accelerated away leaving the Star Wars Bar regulars behind in our rear view mirror. In fact, we got the Hell out of Dodge burning rubber with a speed that would have impressed Rover who had manufactured my sister’s ropey old car sometime in the previous century. Who’d thought we would have got 70mph out of that bad boy!
As a safety precaution and just in case we were followed by the Adams Family, I climbed over the rear seats to retrieve my new titanium knife set which I had bought earlier from my favourite shopping outlet of TK MAXX. As it was dark and it was particularly awkward to recover said items from the boot with my ample bottom firmly wedged over the back seat whilst the car hurtled along those winding English country lanes at breakneck speed, sadly I was only able to salvage the potato peeler.
My sister enquired about the effectiveness of my choice of weapon and I pointed out that it could probably take out an eye in the event of an emergency. I gifted it to her as a wedding present and suggested that it could double up as a stiletto for the nights when her intended was howling at the full moon.
Fortunately, a little further along the lane we came to a crossroads and a signpost guiding us back to home and normality. We have since retraced our journey a number of times, but we have never again seen those strange folk and try as we might we’ve not been able to find that turn off either leaving my sister pondering what might have been and hankering after an unrequited zombie love.