Another November, and another Nouveau Beaujolais night.
Goodness know why but on Nouveau Beaujolais night a group of us from work always followed the tradition of road-testing the year’s new wine, just arrived from France.
Under French Law the latest Beaujolais is released for distribution at a minute after midnight on the third Thursday of November. By that evening many of the pubs and bars in London are offering it to their punters. It is recommended to drink this new wine before the following May, but with us around I’m not sure many of the pubs in our sphere had any the following week. Perhaps I should say at this juncture ‘Me’ as this was something Tony rarely took part in.
I don’t know what the time was as I staggered in the door, being as quiet as possible, in that three sheets t the wind way. I’d obviously made the last train but after a few glasses of the vino collapso things became decidedly blurry.
“It’s okay, I’m awake.” Tony called from in bed. Chasca was jumping up and down as I tried to get my key out of the lock.
I stuck my head round the bedroom door. “Love you,” I said, or perhaps slurred.
“What have you done?” Tony asked suspicions raised.
“It’s beuvolais noujoeau night innit,” I giggled in reply.
“And you’re completely plastered,” Tony sat up. “And what the…?” he asked.
“What?” I asked.
“Go look in the bathroom mirror,” he leaned back against his pillow giving me that look of love and disbelief he reserved for such occasions.
A little while later I came back. I’d dropped my clothes along the way. “Oops,” I said as I climbed into bed feeling even more the worse for wear.
“So?” Tony asked as he snuggled up to Chasca and me.
“I vaguely remember waking up on the tube platform,” I confessed.
“And?” Tony’s face was creased in a smile.
“And I think I’d been sick. It’s all a bit blurry,” I continued my confession.
“Blurry? You think?” Tony began. “So that’s why your shirt collar was red. Beaujolais nouveau sick, lovely.” He teased.
“Looks that way,” I laid back trying to stop the room moving so much. “Oh my God, it’ll be on the cctv,” I wailed.
“Never again?” he wondered aloud.
“I’ve never said that,” I replied. It was true I never made a false promise to stop when drunk or hungover “If you had come too you could have stopped me.”
“Never in a million years. I now what you’re like, Tullett,” Tony laughed. “As long as it was a good night”
“Well I’ll have to check with Kath in the morning, but I think it was. Then again…..” I stopped mid sentence and quickly headed back to the bathroom, knowing that Kath was probably in a very similar condition and may not remember any more than I did. But no matter how bad we arrived home we would still be in work the next morning to perform an autopsy of the year’s beavolais noujeau night.