‘Do you speak Eeenglish?’ asked Selina.
‘Yeees,’ replied Luisa. ‘I’m from Rotherham.’
‘Well, that’s a matter of opinion then,’ muttered Angie under her breath.
Selina ignored her. ‘I don’t believe it. We’re from South Yorkshire too.’
It turned out that Luisa had taken a summer job five years ago, met and married a Spaniard and now worked here helping out stranded people.
Manuel had sent over copies of the passports forwarded from the ship. There were some forms to fill in and then they had to go back outside the room where the security guard took a photo of them. Then they had to hand over nearly two hundred euros.
‘Jeez,’ said Angie, taking out her visa. ‘I’ll get this. You keep hold of your cash, just in case my card stops working.’
‘Thanks,’ said Selina. ‘I’ll pay you b—’
‘It’s fine,’ Angie interrupted her. ‘I know.’
‘That is too hideous for words,’ said Selina, shaking her head in disgust at her new photo. With her blonde hair fluffed up, tired eyes, sullen unsmiling expression and too dark lipstick she looked not unlike Myra Hindley.
‘Now the thing is, we can’t issue the passports until you have a flight,’ explained Luisa.
‘I thought we needed a passport before we could book a flight,’ replied Angie.
‘Yeah, that’s sort of true,’ nodded Luisa.
Angie and Selina looked at each other in confusion.
‘Have you any idea of possible flights you could take?’ asked Luisa.
Angie pulled the faxed sheet out of her handbag. ‘There’s a nine o’clock from here to Barcelona. We could get that. Will the passports be ready?’
Luisa checked out the sheet. ‘Yes, they’ll be ready about half-past twelve. I advise you to book that flight, but we need to see the confirmation. The passport will cover you for a single journey to Korčula only. Don’t be late back if you go out to the shops. The consulate closes for the afternoon.’
They left the room to email the ship on Selina’s mobile. It took twenty nail-biting minutes for the reply to reach them as the internet connection was impossibly sluggish. Mr Silverton was going to book flights for both of them and the ship would contact the consulate directly to confirm it. Angie wondered what would be going through Zander’s head when he realised who his wife was trapped with. Would his heart start to speed up with excitement?
‘I’m not leaving here until I know that the consulate have confirmation that those flights are booked,’ said Angie. She sat in the corner with the other people in there: a family of four whose passports had been stolen, an elderly couple whose passports had fallen into the harbour, a single man whose passport had been lost. There were no other numpties whose passports were sitting on a ship which they had missed getting on.
Another tense but tedious half-hour passed before Luisa summoned them over to the window.
‘The flights are booked, we have just had confirmation. Come back at twelve thirty. There are shops and restaurants across the road if you want to kill some time.’
Angie and Selina let out a synchronised sigh.
‘We might as well,’ Selina said. ‘I need to buy a hairbrush.’
‘Okay,’ agreed Angie. She was bored out of her skull sitting in that room.
After Selina had bought a brush and a pack of make-up remover tissues, they went for a coffee. Neither of them particularly wanted to walk around the shops dressed like a pair of Demis Roussoses. Selina scrubbed off the gothy lipstick and dragged the brush through her hair. It felt good.
‘I owe your husband a big thanks,’ said Selina.
‘Well it was easier than him booking my flight and Zan— your husband booking yours.’
‘Still, it was kind of him…’
Suddenly infuriated by her friendly tone, Angie slammed her coffee beaker down on the table.
‘Look, Selina, forget the nicey nicey act. “Oh, you and your husband are so good. Do thank him. And I got you some tablets for your headache.” I’m not here because I want to spend time with you. I just want to do what I have to to get back on the ship and then we can carry on with our separate lives as we have done for the past twenty years. Okay?’
‘You can’t still be this mad at me after twenty years, Angie.’
‘Yes, I bloody well can,’ came the hissed reply.
‘I genuinely am grateful you know…’
‘Stuff your gratefulness, Sel. After what you did to me. And our friendship. I hope it was all worth it.’
Selina reared. ‘Actually, seeing as you mention it, yes it was. You could never have made him happy. We are a fabulous couple; he’s the most wonderful husband in the world, kind, attentive, gorgeous and fantastic in bed.’
She said that too loudly. Some English-speakers on adjacent tables were trying not to giggle. Selina reined herself in and salvaged her composure by drinking her coffee very regally.
Angie gulped down her coffee, hoping it would drown out the pictures of Zander’s prowess in bed. She had no doubt he would be a fantastic lover, although she had never got the chance to find out. He had been a great kisser, that much she did remember. He had a beautiful soft mouth.
‘Do you want to borrow my new brush or not?’ snapped Selina.
‘Yes,’ spat Angie.
Selina pulled it out of her bag and slammed it down on the table.
‘Thank you,’ growled Angie and pulled her hair out of its bobble. She brushed then handed it back with another clipped thank-you and then they sat in hostile silence for another quarter of an hour.
‘I think we should head over to the consulate,’ said Selina, eventually. ‘I’m convinced that our watches will both stop and we’ll go back to find it closed.’
‘That’s just ridiculous,’ said Angie, not admitting the same thought had crossed her mind. ‘Thanks for buying the coffee.’
‘A great pleasure,’ replied Selina with the world’s most fake smile.
Chapter 12
At half-past twelve exactly Luisa handed over two pale very thin yellow passports.
‘There’s a taxi rank across the road. Good luck. Give my love to Rotherham.’
‘Thank you,’ said Selina, wishing she had a pound for every time she had said or heard those two words in the last twenty-four hours. Everyone was being so nice. Everyone except Angie, that was.
Sitting in the taxi, armed with their passports and details of their flight, Selina thought back to the port and the shock at seeing Angie for the first time in twenty years. She had wanted to leap up and throw her arms around her old friend, but Angie was projecting out a force field with her hostile brown eyes. Then again, could she really blame her? She had smashed up their friendship with a hammer and all for a man. Thirteen years of secrets and confessions and laughter cancelled out because of her desire for the very gorgeous Alexander Goldman.
There was a lot of time to kill at Malaga Airport and nothing to do but sit and drink coffee.
‘We could go for a burger and eat it very slowly,’ suggested Selina.
‘Why not,’ said Angie. This was no time to stick to her diet.
They sat in the burger bar with their cheese quarter-pounders, chips and Coke lights.
‘I haven’t had fast food in months,’ said Angie, momentarily forgetting that she didn’t want to indulge in friendly conversation.
‘Oh? Why’s that?’
‘Dieting. I was getting a bit porky.’
Selina smiled. ‘Can’t imagine you fat. You were always such a string bean.’
‘Well, I played a lot of hockey then, didn’t I? I was always running up and down a field.’
‘I hated hockey,’ said Selina, through a mouthful of burger.
‘Mrs Weaver made you the bloody captain,’ Angie exclaimed.
‘She was sucking up to me because she was knocking my dad off,’ said Selina.
‘Wha-at?’ Angie stopped chewing.
‘You heard.’
/>
‘Your dad? And Mrs Weaver?’
That couldn’t have been right. Selina’s dad was tall and handsome with great big Superman shoulders. Mrs Weaver was small and plain with thin lips and massive knockers.
‘Don’t you remember her leaving halfway through the fifth year?’
Angie cast her mind back. ‘Yes, actually, I think I do.’
‘That’s because my mother found out about it and went into school threatening the head that if he didn’t sack Weaver, she was going to the newspapers. They’d already had the scandal about Mr Timpson feeling up that first year so he did what she asked.’
‘Blimey,’ said Angie. She still couldn’t picture Mrs Weaver in a passionate clinch with Dr Molloy.
‘The woman he eventually left my poor flat-chested mother for had knockers so big that she had to have a twenty-kilo weight down the back of her knickers just to help her to stand up straight. You can guess what my dad found most attractive in the fairer sex.’
Angie let loose a giggle then clapped her hand over her mouth realising she shouldn’t really be laughing at this.
‘They live in Canada. He rings on my birthday. Mum remarried too. She used to ring me on my birthday.’ Selina shrugged.
‘Don’t you ever see them?’
‘Haven’t seen Dad for seven years. Mum and I fell out because her husband is a creep. He tried it on with me and I told her about it. She chose to believe his version of events in which I came onto him. I don’t care though.’
Selina sounded like a young girl again. Benji’s been sold. I don’t care though.
Silence fell whilst they ate their fries, then Selina asked, ‘So what’s he like, then? Your husband? Anyone I know?’
‘I doubt it,’ replied Angie, washing down the salty fries with a long drink of Coke. ‘He’s a Leeds boy.’
‘What does he do?’
‘We have a company selling school uniforms.’
Selina lifted up her eyebrows, as far as she could anyway. ‘What happened to the journalistic ambitions?’
‘Tried it, hated it. Ended up working in a school uniform shop as a filler job and it was so badly run, I thought I could do better myself.’
‘So how did you meet… what’s his name?’
‘Gil Silverton,’ said Angie. ‘He was on a filler job too – as a rep. We went out on a couple of dates and starting talking about school uniforms.’ Angie saw a mischievous sparkle in Selina’s eye. ‘Don’t be so dirty-minded.’
‘As if,’ grinned Selina. ‘Anyway, carry on.’
‘He wanted more out of his life, to be his own boss and generate his own income, and so did I. We set up business together, then we set up home together. It’s taken us a few years to get the company off the ground but we’re doing well now.’
‘And what does he look like, your Mr Silverton?’
‘He’s ginger—’
‘Ginger?’ shrieked Selina. ‘You always said that if the last man on earth happened to be ginger, you wouldn’t go there.’
‘Yes, well, we say and do a lot of daft things when we’re young,’ sniffed Angie. ‘He’s ginger, tall, long legs, kind, generous, funny, loving…’ She gulped. She felt as if she had been away from him for ages. He would have the biggest hug waiting for her.
‘He sounds lovely,’ said Selina, wiping her mouth on a serviette.
‘He is.’
‘Any kids?’
‘We’ve been working too hard to even think about them. You?’
‘Can’t have them.’
She said it so casually that it took a few moments for Angie to register any emotion.
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ she replied eventually. And she was. There was one thing not having them out of choice, another not having them because you couldn’t.
‘Well, hey-ho,’ smiled Selina, but there was no humour in the stretch of her lips. ‘Some might say it was a punishment.’
‘I hope you don’t mean me,’ bristled Angie. ‘I wouldn’t be that bloody awful.’
‘You’re still angry with me twenty years on, though. So please don’t tell me you’re not a grudge-bearer.’ Selina’s blue eyes were showing no amusement.
‘Yes, I am still angry actually,’ Angie admitted and she stood up. ‘I’m going to the loo because I don’t want a row. I just want to get on the plane and back to my husband. The same as you do, no doubt.’
Angie strode off in the direction of the toilet. She and Selina had never argued when they were younger. They were glued at the hip, liked the same pop stars, shops, films, men… Even when Angie had found out through gossiping mutual friends that Zander and Selina had been spotted snogging, she had never confronted her friend about it – she’d just ignored her totally for the remaining week of the very last term waiting for Selina to offer her an explanation, beg for forgiveness, but she hadn’t. And Zander had never officially ended it with her and given her closure. He merely cut off all contact and didn’t ring her again. Angie had put a brave face on but she felt as if all her skin had been ripped off. She hurt and hurt and that pain had never quite gone away.
They poked around the chemist shop. Angie bought a comb out of sheer boredom for something to do. They found a discarded English newspaper and split it between them to read whilst drinking yet another coffee. Eventually the hands of the clock crawled around to check-in time. They joined a long queue of people, presented their documents, dropped off their joint canvas bag of luggage, passed through to security and found a seat.
‘What happened to that psychotic sister of yours?’ asked Selina.
‘She became a nun,’ replied Angie.
Selina burst out laughing. ‘No really. What happened to her?’
‘I’m not joking. Mandy became a nun. She teaches kids at the base of Everest.’
‘Get stuffed.’
‘I’m really not joking. If I had my phone, I’d have shown you some pics. She’s as happy as Larry.’
‘Lord above,’ gasped Selina. ‘I’d never have guessed that one.’
‘You and me both. Mum and Dad were a bit worried at first, but she’s really happy. They’ve been over to see her and she’s been back to visit us.’ No one had seen that coming. Angie was convinced her sister would end up as either as a hit man or a wrestler.
‘Mum and Dad okay?’ asked Selina, tinkering with the silver cross she wore at her neck again.
‘Yep, doing well,’ nodded Angie. ‘Dad had a bit of a heart scare last year, but it was something and nothing.’
Angie noticed that Selina was smiling and lost in a bubble of thought. She knew she was thinking about Angie’s parents. They had loved Selina. She had always been welcome in their house. They couldn’t believe what she’d done and even years later her mother was asking her if they’d made friends again and hoping they had.
The gate number for their flight flashed up. Soon they were on the plane and fastened in. As they began to taxi to the runway, Selina grabbed Angie’s hand.
‘I’m really nervous about flying,’ she said. ‘That’s why we cruise.’
By the time they were in the air, Angie’s hand was scarred with nail crescents.
‘Sorry,’ said Selina. ‘Haven’t flown for years. Actually take-off wasn’t as bad as I remember. I think I’ll have a gin and tonic when the trolley comes past though. Purely medicinal, of course.’
Selina bought them a double each with cash. Five minutes after downing them, they were both asleep, as most of the passengers on the plane seemed to be. It only felt like minutes later when Angie was awoken by a bing-bong and an announcement alerting travellers to buckle up for descent.
‘We’re nearly in Barcelona,’ Angie nudged Selina awake. ‘There are stacks of shops in the airport so at least we won’t be bored.’
There were loads and loads of fabulous stores in the airport, just as Angie said. And every one of them was shut. Only a couple of cafés were open. They picked the one with the comfiest seats and bought two croissants and coffees. The
y were both exhausted and it was a massive effort to keep their eyes open, even though caffeine was flooding their systems. Their flight into Dubrovnik left at six a.m and they had six hours to kill until then. Angie’s head fell forwards onto the table and she was asleep before the clunk. Selina curled into the corner of the sofa seat and closed her eyes. She dreamed of Benji and awoke at three a.m. with tears in her eyes. She didn’t get back to sleep again after that.
When Angie woke up, Selina was nowhere to be seen. Then Angie spotted her buying something in the café. Selina returned to the table with two coffees and two chocolate-coated croissants on a tray.
‘I was just about to surprise you with breakfast,’ smiled Selina.
‘I’m sick of the sight of coffee,’ said Angie, then realised immediately how ungrateful that sounded, so she added, ‘but I think we need them to give us some energy. Thank you.’
‘Yeah, no worries.’
‘We’ll check-in after this,’ replied Angie, glancing at her watch. ‘Have you had any more emails?’
Selina switched on her phone. She’d kept it turned off to save the battery.
‘Yep. There’s one from Marijuana…sorry, Marijana. She’s the port rep at Dubrovnik. We need to catch the three o’clock bus to Korčula then the rep there, Emerick, will meet us at the bus stop. She’s sent me her mobile number and his. I’ve hardly got any battery left at all so I better write them down.’ By the time she had fished a pen out of her bag, the phone screen had gone black.
‘Well, that’s that then,’ said Angie as they both looked transfixed at the dead mobile.
‘Trust in the system, that’s all we can do,’ said Selina. ‘Emerick is going to presume that we catch that bus so he will be there to meet us. Think positive.’
‘The ship calls in at Venice the day after Korčula. It would have been far easier to catch up with the ship there,’ Angie commented.
Selina turned to her. ‘Do you really want to stay in my company any longer than you have to?’
‘Fair point,’ said Angie, taking her yellow passport out of her bag.
‘And you wouldn’t want to miss Korčula, Ange. It’s beautiful. Romantic.’
Here Come the Boys Page 6