The phone rang just after six and I struggled out of vivid restless dreams about missing deadlines and forgetting my lines in a play.
By the time I got to the phone it had stopped but I guessed it was Tod phoning from Paris to say ... what? His plane to Bordeaux was delayed? Why aren't you up yet? I tried phoning back but he'd switched his mobile off. Grrr!
Through a blurry haze I made sandwiches for the journey, had a shower and got Vita up. Like me she just wanted to curl up and go back to sleep. At least she could do so in the back of the car on the way.
The motorway at seven is busy - heavy lorries thundering towards Bordeaux where some will head north for Paris and the ports, others south to Bayonne and Spain. In the dark and really too tired to drive properly, each time I overtake I worry if there is enough space between the barrier and the high sides of the lorry, conscious of the lights from each car behind, right on my tail pushing me forward, faster than I really want to go.
We turn onto the Bordeaux rocade and see the estimated time sign "Merignac18 minutes". Excellent, time to walk Vita before he lands. Ten minutes later, we pass another sign "Merignac 24 minutes". Not so good. Have we been going backwards? Might just arrive as he's coming out of the terminal. Remember to switch on mobile in case he arrives early and phones. Feeling hungry sitting in stationary traffic so eat sandwiches. At least now it's daylight. Watch the minutes tick away on the dashboard clock.
The short term car park's packed. More time lost finding a space. Yet again I'm arriving at an airport to meet Tod later than I planned.
Vita and I hurry across the tarmac. She knows something's up and lunges hopefully at every passing man. I find her a piece of scrubby earth - better widdle here than in the terminal.
We then turn and I see him coming out of the glass doors, face grey with fatigue from the long journey. Never mind. He's safe. He's home.
2 years ago