It was a sweet, happy little suitcase that had lived with us since last August, making its own nest in the cupboard in Lion's office together with the other suitcases. They got on well.
The other suitcases would tell it stories of their travels. Some of them had been to the USA, all of them had been to Europe. One of them had even been to Russia and China. That one shows off a bit but we forgive it because it's a bit of a Velveteen Rabbit.
But Harold (did I tell you the suitcase's name was Harold?) had a favourite amongst the other cases: unfortunately - hindsight is everything - his favourite was Colin.
Even so, Colin is an old campaigner; we've had him for more than five years and Harold was just a baby (excuse me while I wipe away a tear from writing the word 'was').
I don't even have a picture of Harold ... sniff.
But, back to the story. We were going to Cyprus on holiday and it was to be Harold's first ever trip on an aircraft, let alone abroad. He was so excited and perfectly happy that his job was to be cabin luggage because Harold knew just how important cabin luggage is to me. He didn't feel any the lesser because his great friend, Colin, was going in the hold.
I've travelled all over the world and I know about Colins and airlines and stuff getting lost. So Harold was thrilled to be packed with the absolute essentials for the first couple of days of our trip. He had my laptop, all our phone leads, some birthday cards and a present for me from a friend as it was my birthday the day after we arrived in Cyprus. He had the clothes I was planning to wear for the family birthday party we were having with our adopted son Tim, his wife Natasha, and four-and-a-half-year-old Ariadne in a couple of days' time and Ari's present (a beautiful pair of embroidered slippers from India). Even more importantly, he had all my vitamins and medicines - which are essential to keep me out of pain from the after-effects of a long illness a while ago and last, but not least, both of my bras and all my knickers.
We checked Colin in at bag drop and took Harold and Josie, the other cabin baggage, to the gate. At which point, the EasyJet staff informed us that the aircraft was full and that our cabin baggage had to go in the hold.
Harold gibbered with joy. He was to have a big adventure and travel with Colin! He was so excited to have a baggage label put on him and I was happy for him too. Lion and I actually watched him being carried onto the aircraft and we knew he'd find Colin in the hold and snuggle up if he found it a bit scary.
On the flight, Lion and I listened to recordings of I'm Sorry I'll Read That Again and had a great flight. We didn't worry about our batteries getting low because Harold had all the leads.
And then we landed. We were at the carousel at Paphos before it started to move and I couldn't wait to hear how Harold had got on. He was a jolly little suitcase and I knew he'd chat all the way to the hotel.
First Colin arrived. Then Josie. And then nothing.
Harold wasn't there.
Lion had gone through to the arrivals hall to sort out our transfer to the hotel so it was just me, suitcaseless in the baggage area, alone.
I reported Harold missing to a nice woman from LGS, the luggage people at Paphos. She didn't understand my concern - that I'd actually seen Harold go on the plane and she assumed that he had missed it. Her English was better than my Greek but the message didn't go through. In any case, there was nothing to do but leave Harold behind, assuming that he simply hadn't got off the plane and would return (again) with the next EasyJet flight to Paphos.
Apart from anything else, I really, really hoped that would be the very next day. Tim was due to text us with the venue in the morning and I had very little battery left and one of the downsides of the connected world is that you don't memorise mobile phone numbers. I needed my painkillers. And more than that ... trust me, vicars need knickers.
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