by Nicola Slade
‘Of course we’ll carry on!’ Julia cried. ‘Don’t forget we were a social group long before we took up fund-raising. We can’t just let it drop, why should we?’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Sue put in. ‘If it hadn’t been for the group I’d never have had the nerve to put a stop to my husband’s antics, and although it’s meant ending my marriage I can’t tell you how much better I feel now I’m in control. I still need the back-up and the friendship – and the fun. We can’t possibly stop.’
‘Well said!’ Delia spoke heartily with little trace of her usual flippancy. ‘Speaking for myself, your friendship …’ she gestured to the circle of friends, ‘… your friendship has meant a new lease of life for me. I moved away from London to escape the memory of a tedious and unfulfilled marriage. I never had the courage to do what you’re doing, Sue, and others like you, and though I was left extremely comfortably off, I had no idea what to do with the rest of my life. Now I do know. I’d like, if you’ll go along with me, my dear friends, to continue our fund-raising efforts now and then – for the elderly, mostly, but I don’t see why we shouldn’t throw some support in the way of Bobbie and Ursula’s cat-lady.’
‘Oh, what fun!’ Bobbie was jigging up and down with glee. ‘I heartily endorse every word that Sue and Delia have said. I was sad and aimless when we all met and now I’ve a set of dear, dear friends, all of you, and a purpose in life too. I might even be brave enough to look for a part-time job as I feel so much fitter now.’
‘This is all getting a bit too emotional,’ Delia thrust her moment of sentiment behind her and resumed her usual persona. ‘What does everyone plan to do today? I hear lunch will be a light one, followed by a slap-up Christmas dinner tonight? I, for one, intend to take a book down to one of those sun-loungers and summon a squad of those glorious young men to bring me regular injections of rum!’
‘Changing your tipple to suit your surroundings?’ Julia grinned affectionately at her. ‘Sounds good to me.’
‘We’ve got some business to attend to,’ announced Hugh, looking important. ‘Rosemary and I are going to book a wedding seven days from today.’
‘Oh, Julia.’ Rosemary was hugged and kissed all round and ended up beside her oldest friend from the village. ‘It’s like a fairy-tale, I can’t believe it. You’ll be my matron-of-honour, won’t you? This would never have happened if you and I hadn’t become friends.’ She mopped her eyes and looked hopefully at Julia. ‘Any chance of you and Jamie doing the same?’
‘No fear,’ Julia assured her. ‘I don’t say we haven’t discussed it but on balance we think it’ll be more fun to live in sin.’
****
The first week flew past. On New Year’s Day, some time after the so-called light lunch provided daily, Charlie and Finn emerged from their room to go for a wander round the hotel gardens.
‘Oh look, how sweet.’ Finn pointed to Bobbie who was sitting on a stone bench surrounded by scrawny cats, her expression one of complete bliss.
‘She’ll get fleas,’ Charlie warned, then added, with a shrug, ‘Don’t suppose she cares, though. Who’s that? Look at Jonathan and Marek, they’ve buttonholed one of the gardeners. What do you bet Jonathan goes into tropical plant growing when they get home? And Marek could make wooden planters, he’s good at that sort of thing. Remind me to suggest it as part of their money-making scheme.’
Finn was counting heads. Rosemary and Hugh were also heading out towards the gardens and already the drone of Hugh’s voice could be heard as he pointed out choice plants to his betrothed. Julia and Jamie were at the head of the beach, lounging under large sunshades, companionably sipping their rum punches. Delia was laid out under an umbrella of her own, a thin black linen kaftan draped around her bony frame, while Sue and Bernard were strategically placed near the bar so that they could both ogle the near-perfect brown bodies of the waiters and beach boys, all of whom had to pass their table, unaware that they were being awarded points out of ten. At the same time Hedgehog was happily chatting up the girl from the beauty parlour.
****
Only Ursula was apart from the sybaritic scene. She had been suffering from a heavy cold but now, for the first time she was down at the water’s edge, clad in a modest bathing costume and earnestly listening to the kind young man who was instructing her about snorkelling.
‘I’m really sorry, Miss,’ he had told her at first, brown eyes melting with regret. ‘I can’t teach you to dive, really I can’t. There’s an age limit, you see, and my boss, he’d go mad at me.’
‘Oh please, don’t worry.’ Ursula tried not to look disappointed. ‘It’s not important, you mustn’t get into trouble.’
‘You could try snorkelling?’ The boy offered it as a sop. ‘That’s better for you, Miss, you could do that, easy.’
‘Really? You really think I could manage that?’ she asked in delight.
After a few trial dips the boy helped Ursula to adjust her mask, handed her the snorkel and waved expansively at the lapis lazuli sea.
‘There you are, Miss, it’s all yours.’
She smiled and nodded, then waded out another yard or so, breathing hard and concentrating on what he had told her. Back on the beach her long-sighted eyes spotted Finn and Charlie who had paused to watch her solo performance. Finn gave her an encouraging wave in response and she bent tentatively down and into the water.
At once the awkwardness vanished as the sea took her and cradled her creaking, arthritic body. Floating motionless, apart from the rhythm of the waves, she was entranced to see a flight of tiny golden fish flash no more than six inches past her nose. Awed, she gazed eyeball to eyeball with another, larger fish, which then swam off with a flick of its tail.
‘I’m scuba dancing!’ she called out in triumph to Charlie and Finn, who waved again, smiling at her with deep affection as she plunged exuberantly back into the water, eager not to lose a moment of this unimaginable bliss.
Oh, it was magical and despite the sudden pain in her chest, she felt so light, so liberated, beyond anything in her dreams, and suddenly she was dancing, whirling and twirling, dipping and swooping, to a tune only she could hear.
Far away Finn had a sudden foreboding and she clutched at Charlie’s hand. He followed her pointing finger and they started to run down the beach, but Ursula was not aware of them.
Partnering her as she waltzed in her enchanted ballet, weaving patterns down into the depths of the sapphire and turquoise of the Caribbean, up into the azure and amethyst of the tropical sky, was the angel.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she exclaimed with delight, laughing as they performed a graceful arabesque against the glitter of the sun. ‘Look at me, angel, I’m scuba dancing!’
‘Yes,’ agreed the angel, all trace of his cynicism vanished as he smiled at her with a glow of love in his unfathomable golden eyes. ‘Yes, I reckon you’re right, Ursula! You’re really scuba dancing at last!’
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About the author
Nicola Slade was brought up in Poole, in Dorset, and since then has lived in various places including Cairo, in Egypt. Nicola’s books are all set in Hampshire and include the Charlotte Richmond Mysteries, an historical series featuring Charlotte Richmond, a young Victorian widow, and The Harriet Quigley Mysteries, a contemporary mystery series which features recently-retired headmistress, Harriet Quigley and her clergyman cousin, Canon Sam Hathaway. In 2017 The House at Ladywell, a contemporary romantic novel with historical echoes, was published by Crooked Cat books. It is currently a semi-finalist in the Chatelaine awards based in the USA.
The Convalescent Corpse, a cosy historical mystery set in 1918, was published, also by Crooked Cat Books, in November 2018 and is the first in a planned
new series. Nicola wrote magazine short stories while her three children were growing up and at one time was an antiques dealer. She now lives with her husband near Winchester.