My experience as a volunteer

When I told my ex-husband Philip I was training to be a volunteer mini-bus driver, he said, "Well, no good deed goes unpunished."

It didn't take me long to understand exactly what he meant.

I love driving and wanted to give something to others, so when I saw the volunteer driver position, I jumped all over it.

There are too many stories to tell, and my experiences would have made a fantastic sit-com - and there's still time!

I don't know how many of you are familiar with Holmfirth, a grim town nestled on the eastern slopes of the Pennines. The "Last of the Summer Wine" series made it famous by implying that everyone from that part of the world has a flat head and suffers from rickets.

One of my first jobs was to take a group of elderly people from a Nursing home in Leeds and deposit them for the day in Holmfirth, which doesn't sound remotely stressful.

As some background, I drove a 12-seater minibus with a ramp and a space to secure a wheelchair. I soon found out the bus was ancient and not exactly in good order, especially the ramp, which quite often didn't work until after about 50 attempts!

Once we dropped clients off, we were not allowed to take the minibus anywhere else. The clients were expected to pay any parking fees, and give me a £5 allowance for my lunch, either of which they never did.

I'm going to call the lady who worked at the Nursing home and was in charge of organising the trips, Ann ( aka motor mouth) - I don't want to expose her as she was an awkward bitch whose passive aggressiveness and downright controlling behaviour was not what I expected from someone in that position.

I volunteered on Monday, my day off. We had to be back at the garage by 5 p.m., which was convenient on this particular day as I had people coming for dinner at 7 p.m.

All was well when we loaded the residents. Ethel, in her wheelchair, thought it a good idea to hit me on the head when I bent down to fasten her in. Being old, the floor wheelchair mechanism was stiff, and it took me about five minutes to secure it, so there were plenty of head-bashing opportunities for Ethel. I had to take an Ibuprofen before we eventually set off.

Having never been to Holmfirth before, I did a good job of navigating; there were no satnavs in those days.

When we arrived and I had recovered from more head bashing, I informed Ann that they all should be back at the bus by 3:30 p.m. For some reason, she turned to Tommy, a resident with early-onset dementia and a peg leg, and asked, "Ooh. I don't know if that might be a bit early. What do you say, Tommy?"

Tommy said in a really sad voice, "I want to die" I thought that was a bit dramatic, but I could kind of see where he was coming from, having to spend a day with Ann.

Ann whisked him off the bus and they all disappeared into the exciting metropolis of Holmfirth for the best part of nearly 6 hours. To be honest, after going for a coffee and looking around a couple of tat shops, I sat on a bench and read my book in the sunshine.

3.30 pm came and went, and I started to get mildly annoyed. This turned to murderous rage when they nonchalantly wandered into view just before 4 p.m., all snaffling huge ice creams.

At that moment, I could have cheerfully shoved their faces into them, but I hid my feelings very well (I am a baby boomer, so that's no problem), and although at that moment I hated Ann with every bone in my body, I smiled sweetly as it was time to get on our toes. The ramp worked the first time, and Ethel was too tired and full to punch me.

This is where Ann asked if we could go back "the scenic route" which she assured me she knew like the back of her hand.

To make a long story short, we got very lost. I took a corner too tightly and demolished a dry stone wall from the 12th century, probably built by Cistercian monks. I had to laugh when a little old lady behind me shouted, "We shall come back later to rebuild that!"

I eventually got onto the M62 near Manchester and arrived home at 6:30 p.m. to find that Philip had prepared a meal. The guests were early and enthusiastically quaffing wine, so after a quick change, I joined them.