White lies!

We had a lovely day just driving around, looking in awe at The Old Man of Storr and the surrounding mountains.

But that night over a glass of red, we pondered the question of how to tell the nice people renting out the caravan that we wanted to leave. It was difficult, as we couldn't in all honesty say that there was anything wrong, as the caravan was beautifully clean and well equipped.
When my hand suddenly started aching again, the answer to our ponderings became as clear as daylight, and I couldn't think why we had not earlier thought about using my hand as an excuse! We were like two naughty children, feeling a wee bitty guilty, but the carrot at the end of the stick was too nice not to grab!
I lay awake for quite some time, as Liz snored unbearably, with her two dogs joining in at irregular intervals, so that it never became rhythmic, and I was actually contemplating sticking some bally toilet paper in their nostrils to soften the effects of their choir on my nervous system!
But I did fall asleep, but woke up early with my hand red and very painful, and I thought, 'ya right, that is what comes from wanting to lie', as we had decided that we would tell the owners that I had burned my hand the previous night, and yes, I know good girls don't lie, but we were pretty desperate, and bally childish! But hey, a holiday like this do not come around too often.
I woke Liz up, and after taking the abuse she threw at me about being heartless, and people who harasses her, and for all she cared I could go jump off the jetty, with reasonable good grace, I reminded her that if we were not out of the caravan by ten, we would have to pay for another day! That made her took notice, and with a face all scrunched up like a wee witch, she rose from the bed and after lighting a cigarette, sat slouched over the table, sipping her coffee slowly, glaring out of the small window.
She manged, above all expectation, to be ready at nine thirty, and feeling like two bally utter scoundrels, we set out for the owners house to regale them with our tale, and get their sympathy, and thus hoping that they would not demand the whole ten days's payment! They were not at home!
We were now in a fix, but when we saw that there were people in the next caravan, we wrote a letter of explanation, put an extra day's money in and asked the lady to give them the note. I showed her my bandaged hand, and she then demanded to see it, as she was a nurse.
She was aghast at the sight of my burn, and told me that she was taking me to the doctor on the double, and before we came to our senses, I was in her car, and she was driving like a bally maniac to the doctor's rooms, where the doctor told me that I have infection in the wound! After bathing it in a saline mixture, she put a clean bandage on, and put me on an antibiotic course, stressing that I had to see her, or if we were away by then, another doctor in three day's time to see if my hand was okay.
But we were free, and the two scoundrels that we were, we actually didn't feel too bad about the white lie!