Last night I didn’t get to bed –at all. I was more or less ready to go at about 2am-late I agree-but in the distance, from somewhere in the house, I thought I heard my name being called .Of course, I ignored it at first, putting it down to the usual night-time noises that can be heard in this house; living in the country, surrounded by trees and backing on to a forest-not to mention cats and dogs and heaven knows what else –who could blame me for not responding the first time!

Then I heard it again; this time it was clearly my husband’s voice-and it didn’t sound good. So, I darted off in the direction of the bedroom to see if he was ok; he wasn’t, he felt dreadful, and complained of a ‘bit of a ‘pain in his chest and a slight feeling of nausea.(Before I go any further, I should explain that as a registered nurse I specialised in coronary care.)

He looked okay, a bit heavy eyed, but he had just woken up after two hours sleep, his pulse was good, his skin was dry-no perspiring. Anyway, remaining calm and reassuring, at least that was the general idea,I asked the usual list of relevant questions—‘What did you eat  today/tonight...did you have coffee(never agrees with him).. etc. No, he had nothing unusual -he couldn’t think of anything food wise that might have caused it.

Having given him an antacid and two soluble disprin, within twenty minutes he was fast asleep. I must admit, although I felt he was fine, I opted to err on the side of caution and sit for a while –on a chair-just to keep an eye. So with my trusty laptop all set up, I assumed night-nurse vigil. The patient slept soundly and grunted’ I’m fine’ when the vigilant nurse –gently shook his shoulder from time to time.

Time flies when you’re having fun-well at least when you sit undisturbed on a laptop-the only background noise at this point being the regular contented breathing of your other half-with occasional snore thrown in for good measure.

Somewhere around six am ,I heard my son getting up; he had what was clearly a very early appointment somewhere; so I explained to him the nights events and why I hadn’t gone to bed etc-so could he try and be very quiet –I didn’t want to wake the patient up.

Son’s reaction was priceless-‘’The custard...that flippin’ custard...I told him not to eat it...but he never listens.....Drive you mad..Blah blah’’ and on  he went.

Now it is a well known fact in this abode that husband, father and patient has the constitution of an ox-I believe oxen have strong constitutions. He has never smoked –not even once-he has never taken alcohol –not even once; he has many very successful marathons under his belt-2:32-yes impressive. He is tolerant of most foods-and rarely succumbs to any sort of digestive upset.

But ,like most of us ,he cannot handle heavy rich food before going to bed; one of those foods ,which I am convinced would sink an elephant before bed, is plum pudding-yes the good old Christmas plum pudding.

It so happens a good and kind pal of mine made one for me last week-for Christmas dinner.

Instinctively, when son mentioned custard, I knew my dear husband better than to think he would eat of this humble food without some accompaniment. Without further ado, off I went to check out my carefully stashed pudding; it , the pudding had been happily minding its own business  in my not so secret hiding place-asking nothing but a weekly spoonful of brandy-to prepare it for the yuletide onslaught.

I was right-not a crumb left-just the lovely Christmassy whiff in an empty pudding bowl.

The crime occurred; I am given to understand, while I was out early last pm, book browsing with my daughter. The criminals, four males, husband as ringleader, despite protestations from my younger daughters, took the law into their own hands; they feasted merrily on plum pudding and custard.

One of said criminals, in his admirable loyalty to the chief perpetrator, actually blamed the custard-he’s one to be proud of now, isn’t he!

The patient made an excellent recovery, I am so happy to relate and bounced out of bed –without a care in the world-heading off  for another busy day;I hope his memory was more up to scratch than it was last night.

She who laughs least and all that; I have put out a rumour that I have another two puddings ,hidden where they will never find them-oh they will search-I know them well-they will search-but they will never find them.