Time Out of Mind

by Ruth Hay

  “What? Our Caro has an untidy room?”

  “Sh! sh! She’ll hear you, Dave!” Sarah continued in a subdued tone of voice. “The other day I found her mobile phone in the garden. The battery was dead so I plugged it in on the kitchen countertop to recharge, and pointed it out to her. It’s still there, David. She hasn’t even picked it up!”

  “A disconnected teenager! That is a bad sign! Well, now I am really concerned, Sarah. I can’t say I’ve noticed anything particularly but I’ve been on the road a lot since June and I haven’t been home as much. What do you think we need to do about this?”

  “That’s just it, David. I don’t know.” Silence grew in the darkened room as the implications of a Caroline with depression or even a serious illness, began to enter their minds.

  “Maybe she just needs a break?” asked David.

  “What kind of a break did you have in mind?”

  “Well, you’re the travel expert, Sarah. Where could we take her?”

  Sarah shrugged her shoulders in the thin dressing gown and looked uncomfortable as she said,

  “I am not sure that’s a good idea on several counts, sweetheart. First, she’s almost eighteen and needs to get out of the nest for a bit. Travel with her parents is not designed to boost her confidence much.”

  David considered that for a moment and replied with a skeptical tone and a lifted eyebrow,

  “So, you think she should travel abroad on her own?”

  “That’s another thing. Travel abroad this year is a very problematic issue. You know the trouble the Icelandic volcano has caused, with airports closing all over the place and holidaymakers stranded without help. I hesitate to send Caroline out into that possible chaos.”

  “What do you suggest then?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I have an idea for a holiday in the UK but I need to work out the details so that she’ll be safe if anything goes wrong.”

  A huge yawn met this announcement and Sarah smiled as she pulled the bedcovers up around her husband’s chest and tiptoed back to her side of the bed.

  “It’s up to me, I guess,” she sighed as her weary head hit the pillow for the second time that night.

  * * *

  “Mum, I need to pick your brains about something.”

  “Fire away, Sarah! My brains are at your command, whatever I have left, of course!”

  “Oh, Mum, you know you are brighter than most people your age, or my age for that matter.”

  “So, it’s something serious since you are flattering me outrageously?”

  “Well, it is fairly serious. It’s about Caroline.”

  “Aha! I thought you would notice the changes in that girl. Do you know, she was supposed to go shopping with me for her birthday present and she totally forgot to turn up? I was so surprised, but she did not even apologize. She said she couldn’t be bothered. Really, Sarah! That’s not like our Caroline.”

  “You are right, Mum. David and I had a talk about her and we think she needs a complete break. That’s where you come in.”

  “Do you want her to come to me for a week or two? That might not be the kind of holiday you have in mind.”

  “I do want her to stay close to home, but to go to a completely different environment and try different activities to take her out of herself.”

  “It sounds good to me! What can I do to help?”

  “A holiday in England seems to be the answer for now. I remember you telling me once that your brother Philip has a favourite hotel in the Lake District where he goes often for weeks or for weekend stays. Is that still true?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know, Sarah dear. We rarely communicate beyond the annual Christmas card, I am sorry to say. I doubt I could ask him to look after a great- niece he has never even met.”

  “No, no, I wouldn’t ask him to do that! I just need to know there is someone Caroline could call upon if she needs help in any way and a family member is the best bet. I’m sure she wouldn’t need to bother him at all. It’s just a precaution.”

  “In that case, I think I could be persuaded to contact Philip and ask when he will be going to the Lakes next. It’s about time I broke through the barriers he put up when he left home so long ago. He needs to know how poorly his mother is now, for one thing, and this will give me the chance to tell him about his responsibilities.”

  Sarah was thinking this was not the ideal opening for a favour to be requested, but she hadn’t been able to think of another solution to the holiday problem that would allow her to give her daughter the freedom to venture off on her own.

  “Thanks, Mum! Let me know what Uncle Philip says.”

  “I will, Sarah. Meanwhile, keep a close eye on that girl of yours. She’s too special to be feeling depressed at her age.”

  * * *

  Caroline knew nothing about the plans being hatched behind her back until Sarah and David took her out for a meal at The Peacock, a fine, old, 16th century inn near Uckfield.

  Mike was off on a camping weekend with two school friends, although Caroline thought it was a strange kind of outdoor living that required laptops and Xbox games as well as all the usual gear.

  As she settled into a padded bench in the bar restaurant and studied the menu while her father ordered their drinks, Caroline felt a slight lift in the mental cloud that had darkened her days of late. Perhaps it’s the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen, she thought, or maybe it’s a break from the routine of endless days without a schedule of events.

  As they waited for the food to arrive, her mother and father exchanged a significant glance and a subtle nod was given. Sarah started to talk in a voice so casual that Caroline knew at once something important was about to be said.

  “How are your holidays going, Caro? Do you have any plans made with the girls? I haven’t seen Janine or Ashley around lately.”

  “Fine. No. Ash has a boyfriend she’s spending every breathing moment with, and Janine is working in an office for the summer, filing papers, as far as I can see.”

  Caroline buried her head in the menu again while Sarah showed her exasperated expression to her husband and indicated he should try to get through to this new, disturbing version of the Caroline they used to know.

  “What your mother means, Caro, is that we have an offer for you to occupy a part of your summer, but if you can’t be bothered to look at me when I am talking to you, perhaps the whole idea was a mistake.”

  Caroline could not mistake the exasperated tone of her father’s voice. She had never heard that tone before, even in his most angry and frustrated moments. Her head snapped up and she looked into the disappointed faces of her parents. “Sorry! I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t seem to get up the energy to care about anything lately. I apologize to both of you. You don’t deserve to be treated like this.”

  “Right, young lady!” Relief and resolve coloured Sarah’s voice. “You and I are heading to the doctor next week for a checkup and if you pass inspection you will be packing for a climbing holiday in the Lake District.”

  “What? Mum, where did you get this crazy idea? I’ve never been there. What would I do on my own? How can we afford this? What would Mike say?”

  “You know this weekend is about as long as Mike can stand to be away from his high tech room, Caro. The Lake District is an amazing place for young people. You can stay at a Youth Hostel and we will equip you with hiking stuff for your birthday. All the mountain paths are well marked and there are maps to follow.” Her mother continued without losing a beat while Caroline’s mouth fell open in amazement.

  “I had Mike look up the area on his Google site and it’s so beautiful, Caro. Wait till you see the mountain views! And you can visit Beatrix Potter’s house. Remember how you loved her little books when you were small? Didn’t you study Wordsworth’s poetry this term? You can see where he lived and visit some of his favourite sites.”

  “There’s sailing and boat trips and coaches go right to the Roman Fort at Hardknott Pas
s, the highest Roman military ruins in the whole of Britain.”

  “And the food is superb! That’s where the famous sticky-toffee pudding originated as well as Kendal cake, and the lamb chops are delicious.”

  Caroline’s head swung between her parents as they enthusiastically outlined the splendours of this corner of England. Caroline wondered when they had time to concoct this plan. Neither of them had ever been to the area as far as she knew. The thought of hiking up a mountainside was not very appealing to her. The only attempt at cross-country running in her elementary school days had ended in disaster when she totally lost the trail and ended up in a farmer’s field trapped by a herd of very large, and irate cows.

  Yet, listening to their excited voices and eager faces, it seemed churlish to refuse their wonderful offer. When the chorus ended, she forced a smile and said, as cheerfully as she could muster, “Well, it’s off to the lakes I go, then! I’d better start eating soon to build up my strength for this adventure. What will we have? And plan on pudding for certain!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Caroline was half-way to Oxenholme before she grasped the reality that she was soon to arrive at a destination unknown to her, for a holiday she was not sure she wanted.

  She looked around the first-class compartment of the train (courtesy of her grandparents), and saw well-dressed couples drinking wine and chatting about business matters. These travellers had laptops or briefcases on their table tops while she felt out of place with her heavy backpack and cargo pants weighed down with equipment she could not imagine using.

  It seemed like her family had been much more enthusiastic about this trip than she was.

  A collapsible trekking pole and hefty leather boots were purchased for her, and deep discussions were held around the kitchen table about sunscreen and hats and lightweight, washable clothing.

  Mike produced maps of the area and together with his parents, selected a Youth Hostel on the shores of Lake Windermere, near Ambleside, as the best prospect for walking and climbing combined with sailing opportunities.

  “You’ll wake in the morning to the cries of gulls and the gentle lapping of water,” exclaimed Mike. “I almost chose another hostel in the hills near Elterwater but it’s further from the towns and the shopping action.”

  Caroline stared at her brother in astonishment. Who was this strange male person and why was he so anxious to get rid of his sister?

  In the end, she had decided it was easier to let the whole family enjoy their preparations than argue about each item they considered essential. She thought, privately, an expedition to the Andes could not have required more equipment. As she watched the backpack being packed, Caroline figured she could sell most of the stuff, unused, on her return to civilization, and simply sit by the lake and sleep, or read, for a week instead of venturing up mountains on her own.

  Her mother had forestalled that plan by producing a pamphlet about the joys of British hostelling for teens and insisting that Caroline read the whole thing and promise to connect with the adult hostel supervisors who would find a suitable group for her.

  “And remember, Caro, I will expect a report every night when you get back from the hills. There’s a mobile phone charger in your backpack.”

  Caroline had tuned out round about then. She bowed to the inevitable and smiled inanely whenever the great adventure was mentioned.

  This posture lasted until she had been driven to Gatwick Airport, escorted onto the Express train to Victoria Station and been taken in a taxi across London to Euston Station. She almost begged her mother to change plans and let her stay in the city where crowds and theatres promised much more excitement than countryside and mountains could ever provide, but one look at her mother’s face, full of happy anticipation, squashed that thought flat.

  * * *

  Caroline heaved a heavy sigh and looked out of the train window for the umpteenth time. Nothing much to be seen there, she thought; same old fields and industrial towns as the last two and a half hours. I can’t think what everyone finds so appealing in this Lake District place. No one I know has ever been there.

  She must have nodded off for a few minutes. The conductor was announcing their arrival at Oxenholme and his tinny voice over the crackling intercom system had wakened her.

  In the sudden shuffle to find all the items she had spread over the table during the last three hours, she almost dropped the package from her Gran Lynn.

  “Now this I must take with me,” she chided herself, as she stuffed the sealed brown envelope into an outside pocket of her backpack and pressed down the Velcro flap. Her Gran Lynn had been very mysterious about the package, saying, “Don’t open it until you get a phone call from me in a few days. I have a secret mission for you. Something to help us with your great-grandmother’s past.” That was all Caroline could get out of her, no matter what she tried.

  Her grandmother’s eyes just twinkled as she said, “Wait and see!”

  Observations at the previous train stops had alerted Caroline to the fact that it was necessary to exit speedily from this Virgin Express train. She made her way to the nearest exit doors and waited in line behind a woman with a folded push chair, a diaper bag over her shoulder, and a crying child’s arm grasped firmly in her hand.

  Caroline began to worry as soon as the train came to a halt. What would happen if she missed this stop and carried on to some unknown destination to the north? She could hardly force her way past the struggling mother, but what was the best thing to do to help expedite her exit?

  Finally, Caroline threw down her bulky backpack, told the mother to help her child off the train, and hauled the push chair down the steps for her, depositing it on the platform.

  Ignoring the grateful thanks of the mother, Caroline turned to hop back on to the train only to find two passengers ahead of her. At the same moment she heard the dreaded bell signaling the “All Aboard” warning she had noted before.

  For a second she hesitated, not wishing to push her way forward to retrieve her backpack, then she realized she might be better to stay at her destination. As she looked up to see her backpack disappear behind the automatic train doors she caught a glimpse inside of a train conductor mouthing something to her. “Too late now, mister!” she grumbled. “Where were you, two minutes ago when we needed you?”

  The young mother had seen the whole incident and approached Caroline at once to offer her assurances that the backpack would probably be returned to its destination from the next train stop. Caroline was relieved that her luggage had been carefully labeled by her mother and that her money, travel itinerary and phone were stowed safely in the capacious pockets of the new, multi-purpose, wind and weather-proof jacket she had thrust her arms into just before the train had arrived at the station. Who cares if I lose the backpack, she told herself with a shrug of her shoulders. I never wanted the darn thing in the first place. Now I don’t have to climb anything, other than into my bed.

  The young mother was explaining Caroline’s predicament to her husband who had picked up the small child and quieted her tears immediately. He insisted on driving Caroline to the Kendal bus station for her transport to Waterhead where the Youth Hostel was situated.

  “No, I won’t hear of it!” he replied to Caroline’s protests. “It’s the least we can do to thank you. I was late arriving and you certainly stepped up when you were needed. Hold on a minute while we pack this kiddy and her gear into the car. I’ll be right back and we can give your information to the station manager before we leave.”

  Caroline waited on the platform and looked around for the first time. The Oxenholme station did not seem to have a single ox in evidence. It was a small, open-air station with two covered platforms and a country feel that was quite different from the huge bustling stations in the south. On the opposite side of the tracks she could see, in the distance, a town dipping down into a river valley. No high-rise buildings and nothing you could call a mountain, so far, she thought, but lots of green spaces
and trees. Not so different from Sussex. I hope this is all going to be worth the trouble.

  The car ride to Kendal took about ten minutes. There was lots of conversation about Caroline and her holiday and reassurances that she would “love the Lake District. Everyone does!”

  The husband gave Caroline his card and apologized for not taking her the whole way to Waterhead as he had afternoon appointments in Kendal and needed to get his family home first. He took her directly to the bus bay where her bus awaited and repeated that she must contact him if she needed any help at all during her stay.

  As she waved him away, Caroline considered that at least the natives were friendly in this neck of the woods.

  With no luggage to burden her, Caroline nipped up the stairs to the upper level of the bus and settled down in the front seat.

  Shortly after leaving the station, the bus began to chug up a steep street lined with houses and cars and soon the town was left behind and a motorway allowed the bus to speed up.

  Caroline saw fields dotted with sheep on either side and after about fifteen minutes she began to notice that these flat fields bordered with stone walls were giving way to higher terrain.

  First, the fields were much more bumpy and rocky, then the fields were part of hills and next the hills became mountains in the distance.

  Caroline’s elevated position in the front of the bus allowed her to watch this panorama unfold as the road climbed upwards, twisting and turning on its way to Windermere. At each bend she could see farther. In the clear air, the mountains soared into the distance, appearing ever higher and more majestic. Caroline was struck by the beauty of the scenery and astounded that anyone would think that she would venture to climb up one of these giants.