‘Heavens,’ I said to Hazel. ‘I’m exhausted. It’s such a rush getting everyone ready on time ...’ I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes.
The twins had taken the seat immediately in front of us and were squabbling already. I kept my eyes closed.
‘You can take turns –’ Arnold decreed. ‘Donna can sit next to the window on the way down and Donald can have it on the way back.’
‘It will be dark on the way back,’ Donald protested.
‘Never mind, there’ll be lights along the way and you’ll be able to see as much as you want.’ They’d probably both fall asleep on the way back, but he wasn’t mentioning that. ‘That’s what your mother and I are going to do.’
Oh no we weren’t. Not if Hazel continued to occupy the seat across the aisle. I slitted my eyes and caught her smiling sympathetically at Arnold. Fortunately, he was too busy with the kids – to notice.
There was a sudden rustle of suppressed excitement through the coach and I opened my eyes wide, expecting to see that the driver had boarded and we were off.
But it was Lania, looking, as usual, like a fashion plate. Behind her, Piers loomed like a specially-painted backdrop, in faultless casual wear. They both provided complete contrast to the rest of us, who had dressed for comfort and rain. Especially Piers, who might have come from a different planet than the other men in the coach, most of whom were wearing country tweed jackets of a faintly green hue which made them look as though they had moss gently creeping over them.
The only seats remaining were at the back of the coach. Lania and Piers moved down the aisle in stately progression, nodding right and left as they passed their seated friends. Even Arnold and I came in for a gracious nod. I noted a hum of muted comments in their wake, but could not distinguish any words.
‘Good news, you lot —’ This time, it was the driver. He bounded aboard, beaming. ‘Weather’s improving down at the coast, the Channel is smooth – and the sun is shining in Boulogne!’ He leaped into his seat and started the motor.
There was a spontaneous cheer as the coach rolled off. We were all set for a good day.
I wouldn’t have called the Channel smooth myself. In fact, if this was smooth, I’d hate to see rough. The twins were loving every minute of it, however, and Arnold seemed quite happy, so I slumped down on a bench on deck and concentrated on fighting down nausea and trying to be a good sport.
Just as I was losing the battle, Hazel appeared in the distance. She drew a bead on Arnold and went straight to him. Arnold said something to her and she looked over at me, that sympathetic smile coming into, play again. Then she laid her hand on Arnold’s arm and fluttered her eyelashes up at him. He bent closer to hear what she was saying ...
It was faster and more effective than Dramamine. I was on my feet before I knew I was thinking about it.
‘You’re feeling better.’ Arnold greeted me as I came up to them. ‘I told you it was just a matter of your inner ear adjusting and then you’d be fine.’
‘You were so right, Arnold,’ I cooed, claiming his other arm. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
Arnold looked considerably startled, but Hazel got the message, all right.
‘I was just telling Arnold about an absolutely super little place to eat in Boulogne,’ she said hastily.
‘Were you?” I smiled at her vaguely. ‘How kind of you. But I was thinking it might be fun if we just wandered around by ourselves and made our own discoveries.’
‘Oh, yes. Of course.’ She seemed to retreat without actually moving. That’s much the best fun when you’re in a new place. I’m sorry I won’t be able to show you around. I’d have liked to, but I have an appointment for a fitting with a marvellous little French dressmaker I’ve discovered. She’s making several things for me and it will take a couple of hours.’
“That’s quite all right –’ I was still cooing and Arnold was beginning to look distinctly nervous. ‘We’ll manage.’
‘Are you sure you’re all right, honey?’ Arnold asked.
‘Positive.’ It was true. I felt a lot better. ‘Why don’t we take a turn around the deck? Where are the kids?’
‘They went down to have something to eat. Would you like something?’
‘No –’ A sudden lurch of my stomach told me that I mustn’t get overconfident. ‘I’d rather wait until we land.’
As we walked into the supermarket, my first reaction was: this is more like it! English supermarkets are all very well, but they lack a lot Americans are used to – like a wide variety of choice, departments other than food, and sheer size. Also, most of them don’t have a liquor section.
Arnold came to a rapt halt in front of shelves full of tantalizing bottles, whipped out his pocket calculator and began giving it a workout. It was obvious that he was good for a couple of hours.
‘Come on –’ I turned to the kids and found that they had already disappeared. ‘Oh, damn!’
‘Don’t worry, honey, they won’t go far.’ Arnold picked up a bottle and squinted at the label. ‘Try the candy section. I’ll wait for you here and you can head them off at the Pass.’
‘Good thinking.’ I wheeled my cart around and began a systematic quartering of the sales floor until I spotted a familiar form at the end of a row. The lettering on the packet was unfamiliar, but the shape and scent were unmistakable. I wheeled briskly down that aisle, keeping a sharp eye on the turnings.
Sure enough, second turning along, I found them. They had – as I had suspected – taken possession of a trolley of their own and it was already heaped with enough confectionery to keep them in the dentist’s chair for the next decade.
‘Hey, Mom!’ Donald hailed me. ‘We’re learning French – without even one lesson. Confiserie means candy, chocolat means chocolate, gateau means cake, glace means ice cream –’
‘And Non means Not Bloody Likely!’ I pounced on their trolley and began dealing items back on to the shelves whence they had come.
‘Aw, Mom!’ Donald made hapless flailing motions as I denuded the trolley. ‘We’ll pay for it ourselves. You can take it out of our allowance.’
‘I’ll take it out of your hides if you don’t behave yourselves!’
Donna said nothing. Her demeanour suggested that she had not really expected that they could get away with it, but I noticed that her gaze rested longingly on certain things.
‘I want to be fair,’ I said. ‘You can have three things each – but you’ve got to choose. Your father and I can’t afford to buy out the whole store.’
‘Okay.’ They brightened immediately, but Donald wanted to bargain. ‘How about three each – and three together? That would be fair, Mom. Look at all you and Dad are getting.’
‘Hmm ...’ I glanced at my empty trolley, knowing that Arnold was already piling his high. ‘We’ll see ...’ I had better get back and see what Arnold was doing. Not only were his selections going to be a lot more expensive than those of the twins, but they could get us into more serious trouble if we got caught taking them through the Green Lane when we hit English Customs.
Several people hailed me on my way back to Arnold. Hazel had been right: this was a good way to get to know more of the townsfolk. There was a common air of camaraderie and shared conspiracy that was already acting as a bonding agent.
‘Do you think I could slip this under my belt?’ A woman I had hitherto thought of as a staid member of the community held up a knobbly bottle.
‘Go ahead –’ Her friend egged her on. ‘I’ll say I’m your midwife and Customs will rush us through to get you off the docks before you go into labour and they have to help.’
Both women shrieked with bawdy laughter, clutching at their trolleys for support. A couple who were obviously French regarded them with disdainful amusement.
‘Oh, Nancy –’ Lania was lurking around the next turning and decided to condescend. ‘Have you seen the Housewares? They’re having a sale on Sabatier kitchen knives – they’re one of the
best value items in any case, so they’re twice as good now. I know Rosemary was moaning that her knives weren’t as good as they should be –’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I’ll check that out.’ I refrained from promising that, if I bought any, I’d leave them behind for Rosemary. I could do with some decent kitchen knives in New Hampshire myself. I noticed that Lania’s trolley was filled with luxury items and decided to take a quiet leaf from her book: walnut oil, pâtés, cheeses, and some exotic dairy items.
Piers had also gone for the most expensive things on offer. A large tin of truffles nestled beside two bottles of Armagnac, fruits bottled in liqueurs, and the inevitable walnut oil.
‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘but where did you find the walnut oil?’
They pointed me in the right direction, which was also the gourmet section, and I spent quite a happy half-hour before the thought recurred to me that I had better go and see what Arnold was buying and tell him to stop it. Also to collect some money for all this. There seemed to be no rush – I was still surrounded by people from the coach wherever I went – and I got pleasantly lost trying to find my way back and didn’t mind a bit.
Not until I suddenly realized that I had passed the candy section twice and not seen the twins. I kept the uneasiness under control by telling myself that, of course, they’d be with their father by now. I didn’t really believe it – and I was right.
Arnold was all by himself with his calculator and his shopping trolley, lost to the world. He looked vaguely amazed at the speed with which I rushed up to him and moved defensively in front of his trolley, lest mine should collide with it.
‘Where are the kids?’
‘They were here a minute ago.’ Arnold looked around absent-mindedly. I thought they’d gone back to you.’
‘I haven’t seen them lately.’ Maybe they were hunting for me. It was a favourite trick of theirs. Divide and conquer. Having piled their sweets in Arnold’s trolley, they’d get fresh supplies and dump them in mine. With any luck, we’d be through the checkout register before we noticed what they’d done.
Then I remembered that I’d just come past the candy section without seeing them.
‘Arnold, they’ve gone!’
‘Gone where?’ Arnold was still abstractedly tapping out more calculations. I snatched the calculator out of his hands and got his full, if pained, attention.
‘How do I know where? They’re not in this supermarket, that’s all I know.’
‘Take it easy, honey. They must be.’ He tried to recapture the calculator, but I shoved it into my shoulder bag and snapped the bag shut.
‘Then help me find them. You go along the top of the aisles, I’ll go along the bottom. We’ll quarter the whole store. You’ll see.’
When we came together again, back where we had started from, even Arnold was looking worried. He pulled up his trolley with a clinking of bottles.
‘They must have gotten bored and wandered out to the coach,’ he said unconvincingly. ‘Let’s pay for this stuff and get back to the coach. We’ll find them there.’
We didn’t. The flaw in Arnold’s reasoning was clear: if they’d become bored with all the resources of the supermarket spread out before them, they’d have been twice as bored hanging around the coach waiting for everybody to show up.
‘Where are they?’ I looked around wildly. Everything was strange and unfamiliar. All the signs were in French; all the roads led to unknown destinations. Two small children could so easily slip out of sight and be lost – perhaps for ever.
‘Take it easy, honey.’ Arnold’s voice shook. ‘They can’t have gone far. We’ll find them.’
‘Oh, sure. How?’
‘Let’s ask the driver.’ Arnold led the way to the back of the coach where the driver was helping load shopping into the luggage compartment underneath the coach. ‘Someone must have seen them.’
‘Been too busy, mate.’ The driver straightened with a rueful grin. ‘I’ve had me head buried in there –’ he gestured to the dark recess – ‘for the past hour. Haven’t seen a thing except carrier bags.’
‘Oh, God!’ I fought back tears of panic. ‘Should we go to the police?’
‘It’s a little early for that, honey. We haven’t even looked properly yet.’
‘So how do we look? Where do we look? How can you be so calm? For God’s sake, Arnold, they’re your children!’
By this time, we had collected an interested circle of spectators around us as more and more shoppers returned to the coach with their booty.
‘Looking for your nippers?’ A latecomer wheeled up an overloaded trolley. ‘Twins, aren’t they?’
‘Yes, yes! Have you seen them?’
‘Saw them about three-quarters of an hour ago when I brought my first load out. They were hanging about looking proper cheesed-off. Asked me how much longer before the coach left. Told them it would be about another hour and a half, at least. So they went off and got the local bus back to town.’
‘What?’ I whirled on the hapless man. ‘They’ve gone into Boulogne all by themselves? Why did you let them go?’
‘Why not?’ He was affronted. ‘Nothing to do with me, was it? How was I to know you hadn’t said they could?’
‘They’re just children! Children –’ I turned away. ‘This is a foreign country. They don’t speak the language. They only have a few francs –’
‘They were doing all right.’ Someone else spoke, trying to be consoling. ‘I saw them buying some sweeties. They gave the cashier some English money and she gave them francs. They had plenty for the bus fare.’
‘This is a friendly place,’ another woman said. ‘Not like some French shopping ports I could name. They’ll be all right.’
‘The best thing for you to do –’ The driver spoke with weary authority, giving the impression that this was not the first time this had happened to him. ‘Take the bus into town yourself and find them. The place isn’t all that big. Not if they stick to the centre of town – and they will. If they’ve changed some money, they probably want to do some shopping on their own. Look for the toy shops and the sweet shops. You can’t go wrong.’
‘Right –’ Arnold looked uncertainly at our trolley full of carrier bags.
‘Just leave that stuff, we’ll load it for you. Over there –’ The driver signalled to his French colleague behind the wheel of a local bus. ‘The bus is just ready to leave. If you run for it, you’ll make it.’
Thirteen
‘Don’t worry, honey, they’re sensible kids.’ Arnold was still trying to keep up his own spirits as much as mine as we plunged through the streets of Boulogne. ‘They can take care of themselves. They know where the ferry is and what time we’re scheduled to leave. If we don’t find them beforehand, they’ll be at the ferry waiting for us when it’s time to go.’
‘By which time, I’ll have had a coronary!’ All the stories I had ever read about sinister sailors, tramp steamers, and brutal sea captains who didn’t care who was shanghaied to man their vessels, coalesced with memories of a thousand films set in shadowy foreign ports with villains lurking in dark doorways, shady ladies without hearts of gold – or any hearts at all – and unscrupulous lodging-house keepers with direct connections to the white slave traffic. ‘My babies!’
‘Stop a minute, honey.’ Arnold pulled me to a halt. Take a deep breath. Maybe you should lean over and put your head between your knees.’
‘Oh, thanks very much. People think we’re crazy enough now!’
We had been attracting curious stares as we hurtled past strolling pedestrians, wild-eyed and panting, occasionally calling out to unseen children.
‘Donald! Donna!’ I threw back my head and screamed out the names for all I was worth. I must have been audible within a quarter-mile radius. A couple of people crossed nervously to the other side of the street.
‘Look, honey, I hate to say this –’ Arnold sounded strange. I looked at him sharply and saw that he had gone a peculiar shade of grey.
‘But I don’t feel very well. Do you think we could sit down for a few minutes? If we sit outside at one of these sidewalk cafés, we’ll be able to see the kids if they pass. And maybe, if any of the people from the coach come by, we can get them to help us look.’
‘Oh, my God, Arnold, I’m sorry!’ He was still convalescent and I had forgotten. ‘Your arm! Your -back!’ I steered him to the nearest table at the edge of the sidewalk. ‘Are you going to be all right?’
‘Yeah, sure.’ Arnold sank gratefully into the chair while I looked around frantically: for the waiter, for the kids, for a policeman, for anyone who could possibly help.
The waiter materialized first and Arnold ordered cognac for both of us. We must have looked as though we needed it; the waiter brought it in record time. Arnold ordered a second round before we touched the first. That came promptly, too.
‘Drink up and try to relax, honey.’ Arnold set an example, his glass was empty when he set it down and he reached for the next one. ‘Try to cheer up. The kids are probably having the time of their lives running around this place. We’ll catch up with them back at the ferry.’
‘Will we? How do we know they even got the right bus? They can’t read French. Maybe they got the wrong bus. They could be in some town fifty miles from here, with no idea of where they are or how to get back. And nobody there will speak English or be able to help them. They’ll wander farther and farther away. Alone, frightened, crying –’
I discovered that I was crying myself. Also that my glass had mysteriously emptied.
‘Atta, gal,’ Arnold encouraged as I reached for the other glass, sobbing. ‘Get it out of your system.’
Except that I seemed to be getting it into my system. The waiter appeared with a fresh brace of cognac and I realized that we had not eaten since breakfast and it was now late afternoon. Very late.
‘Arnold –’ I choked. ‘Arnold, it will be dark soon. And Donna’s only just gotten over being afraid of the dark. She’ll –’
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