by Judy Leigh
‘Right, well done. You’ve made it. Now we’re going on holiday.’
Maggie collapsed against the wall. ‘Oh, dear – I almost chickened out.’
‘Are you all right?’
‘I think so…’
Lil took a breath. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Thank goodness you came for me, Lil. I scribbled a note for him but then I froze – I just couldn’t do it by myself.’
‘What happened?’
Maggie exhaled slowly. ‘My feet wouldn’t carry me out of the flat. It’s as if he has some sort of magical power, keeping me there…’
‘You need this holiday so badly. And it will do both you and Brian a favour,’ Lil said firmly. ‘Come on, Maggie – the minibus will be waiting.’
‘You’re right. I am in a rut. And as you said, Brian won’t notice I’ve gone for hours.’ Maggie pointed at her feet and groaned. ‘Oh, no. I’ve still got my slippers on.’
‘Have you got shoes packed in your case?’
‘Yes – some trainers and a smart pair.’
‘Then you’ll do as you are. The slippers will be comfortable to travel in. We can always buy shoes in Europe – they have supermarkets and shops.’
Maggie protested again. ‘I haven’t got a coat, Lil.’
‘I’ll have something you’ll look fabulous in.’
‘Your coat won’t fit me.’
‘Of course, it will.’ Lil beamed, reaching across to a hanger behind the door, and offered Maggie a choice of two. ‘Which is it to be? The faux leopard or the anorak?’
‘I don’t know,’ Maggie wailed. It was impossible to make a decision. Lil’s mind worked quickly – the leopard faux fur was a generous style that swamped her own small frame. She thrust it into her friend’s arms. ‘Right, you’ll be warm and gorgeous at the same time. It might be August but that wind is cutting. Now let’s go.’
Maggie struggled into the coat. She ran her fingers over the soft faux fur and smiled weakly. ‘Do I look like a film star?’
‘You look glorious. Now come on.’
Maggie wavered, her mouth open. ‘I haven’t done anything by myself in years…’
Lil grabbed a case and shoved it into Maggie’s hand, picking up the other and propelling her forwards. ‘Okay. I’ve got the luggage, I’ve got you. We’re as ready as we’ll ever be. Let’s hit the road. Europe here we come.’
Maggie allowed herself to be pushed forwards in the furry coat, the case dangling from her hand. She groaned, one tortured word. ‘Brian…?’
‘He’ll still be here when we’re back. This is the beginning of the new independent Maggie,’ Lil offered and slammed the door behind her. The hallway smelled of lingering cigarette smoke, sweat and fried eggs. Lil marched Maggie past the door of her flat and a triumphant smile broke out on both their faces. They were on their way.
6
Lil shuffled up the steps and onto the minibus, sitting behind Cassie, who was in the front seat next to Tommy, who was driving, his belly against the steering wheel. Lil tugged Maggie next to her, wrapping an arm through hers, both for comfort and to stop her changing her mind and running back to Brian. Lil glanced over her shoulder and waved to the other passengers: a debonair man in his fifties in a smart blazer and cravat seated next to a frantic man, who was ticking names on a list; two middle-aged women were sitting together but leaning away from each other, holding up magazines; three lads and a young blonde woman were sitting at the back. The youngsters called ‘Hello,’ and the young man with longish inky hair that Lil thought made him look like someone from a Dracula movie shouted, ‘Hi, Lil. Hi, Maggie.’ She was impressed that he knew their names.
Opposite her sat an elderly man with sparkling blue eyes, huddled inside a huge overcoat. Lil pulled out a packet of chocolate triangles from her handbag and held the bag across Maggie’s lap towards the older man by way of introduction. Maggie took one. Lil leaned further forward, making Maggie gasp inside the faux leopard coat.
‘I’m Lil. Have a chocolate triangle. They are nice, quite chewy and I find they don’t stick to your teeth.’
The man gazed at her a moment but said nothing. Lil wondered if he didn’t understand English, but she liked his face, his twinkling eyes. She rattled the bag at him for emphasis and he mouthed a word half-formed, then he reached out a hand and took a sweet, gazing at it for a few moments before unwrapping the green foil and staring at the chocolate that was melting between his fingers.
‘Go on,’ Lil murmured. ‘Knock yourself out.’
She watched as he pushed the chocolate triangle into his mouth. He leaned back in his seat, chewed slowly and closed his eyes. Maggie took another sweet before Lil hurriedly replaced the packet in the bottom of her handbag.
Fifteen minutes passed as suitcases were stowed in the space at the rear. There was loud, excited chatter. DJ and Jake were teasing Pat in the back seat, Emily was texting and Ken was telling everyone around him who would listen about Pont-l’Evêque, a particularly delicious if smelly Norman cheese. Then everyone was comfortably settled and gazing expectantly at Tommy, who called from the front of the minibus. ‘Right, are we all here?’
‘I hope so,’ Duncan answered on behalf of everyone else. ‘I’ve just counted heads.’
‘Okay,’ Tommy said matter-of-factly. He twisted round, meeting rows of expectant eyes. ‘I’m Tommy Judd, the organiser of this tour.’ He puffed out his chest. ‘So, let’s just go round and do introductions, shall we?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Since we’re going to be getting to know each other very well.’
‘I’ll begin, shall I?’ Ken touched his silk cravat with light fingers. ‘Ken Harrington. I’m a historian and an author with an interest in architecture and foreign travel. I intend to practise my rusty French and eat gourmet food.’
‘Sue Wheeler.’ Sue shifted her neat figure and boomed, ‘Salterley tennis club. I’m the social secretary.’
‘Thanks, Syoo.’ Denise took a breath. ‘I’m Denise Grierson. New to the tennis club and the area. I want to…’ she gazed around ‘…expand my social circle.’
Pat chimed from the back of the minibus. ‘I’m Pat Stott, the goalkeeper.’
‘He wants to expand his social circle too.’ DJ laughed. ‘He hasn’t had a girlfriend in ages.’ There was silence as Pat’s cheeks glowed. ‘I’m DJ Niati,’ DJ added. ‘And I can’t wait for all the laughs we’re going to have in Amsterdam.’
‘Me too,’ Jake agreed. ‘I’m Jake and I’m looking forward to the clubs and the night life and the football.’ He elbowed DJ and they both nodded in agreement. ‘And meeting all the Dutch girls…’
‘Emily Weston.’ Emily smiled confidently. ‘I’m going for the football game. And because Pat and DJ and Jake are three of the nicest guys in the world, despite being completely immature.’ She winked as DJ hugged her.
‘Duncan Hopkins, the barman,’ Duncan muttered. ‘You all know me. I’m only here for the beer, as they say.’ He pointed to the older man in the overcoat, who was staring through the window. ‘That’s my dad, Albert. He doesn’t say much but he’ll be happy if you buy him a pint.’
Cassie spoke up smoothly. ‘Cassie Ryan. And I’m looking forward to getting to know you all even better.’
‘Likewise,’ Ken murmured, picking an imaginary speck of dust from his pristine blazer.
There was a silence, then Lil gazed around the bus. ‘Ah. Hello. I’m Lil,’ she said. ‘Lil Ryan. I need a holiday. I haven’t been anywhere for a long time.’ She gazed at Maggie. ‘And this is my friend Maggie Lewis. She needs a break from her Brian.’
‘I do,’ Maggie agreed.’ And I’m having one…’
‘Right. Introductions over. And we’re off,’ Tommy yelled excitedly. He started the engine and raised his voice to an even louder pitch. ‘Happy holidays, everybody.’
A rousing cheer came from the back of the bus as Tommy reversed eagerly out of the car park. There was a bump, a light crunch and another whoop from the back seat.
> ‘My days, you’ve hit something,’ DJ shouted as he twisted round.
‘It’s a blue car,’ Jake added.
‘A blue Volkswagen Up!’ Emily explained. ‘We’ve dented the front bumper, I think.’
‘Oh no – that’s Jenny Price’s car.’ Lil was alarmed. Her immediate instinct was to go and find Jenny and hug her.
‘Her pride and joy.’ Maggie’s eyes were wide with fear, as if she was imagining Jenny’s reaction. ‘There will be hell to pay. Oh dear – things haven’t started well.’
‘Leave it with me,’ Cassie murmured, sliding out of the front passenger seat. ‘I’ll pop in and explain. We can sort out everything else once we’re back.’
‘Shall I come with you?’ Lil asked, concerned. ‘Poor Jenny.’
‘No, stay where you are. I’ll sort it out, Lil.’
‘You haven’t been drinking, have you, Tommy?’ Duncan asked.
‘No…’ Tommy’s ears reddened.
Pat’s face creased with laughter. ‘We haven’t even got out of the car park yet and Tommy’s in trouble.’
‘You have passed a proper minibus test, I hope?’ Ken asked.
‘Of course.’ Tommy was purple with embarrassment.
‘We won’t fall behind schedule will we?’ Denise frowned.
Sue waved a hand as if dismissing an annoying fly. ‘I have to say, it wasn’t exactly the start to my holiday that I was hoping for.’
‘Sorry, everyone,’ Tommy spluttered. ‘I wasn’t expecting a car to be parked there.’
‘It is a car park, my dear,’ Sue reminded him, with an expression of dissatisfaction.
‘Do we have a second driver, someone who has taken the appropriate test – just in case?’ Ken asked.
‘That would be me,’ Duncan offered. He didn’t intend to drive the minibus; he’d be too busy sampling the local beers, purely professionally of course. He said nothing more.
Tommy shook his head. ‘I’ve driven this thing loads of times – I did that trip last year to Alton Towers, remember, with the football team?’
DJ shouted from the back seat. ‘The one where Jake puked all the way home?’
Emily elbowed him. ‘I don’t remember you clearing it up, DJ. You left the bus claiming you felt queasy and I had to sort it all out.’
‘I’d been eating a burger – I think the beef must have been off,’ DJ protested.
‘Can we please not mention being sick?’ Denise huffed. ‘We haven’t left the car park yet. And what’s that awful smell?’
Everyone turned to stare at Pat, who had produced a beef pasty from his bag and had started to tuck in. He stared at the accusing faces. ‘I was hungry. All that talk about burgers…’
‘We really ought to be on our way to Portsmouth,’ Ken suggested, glancing at an expensive timepiece on his wrist.
‘I agree, Ken,’ Sue boomed.
‘We’ll make good time, don’t you worry.’ Tommy waved a hand. ‘I know the way, all the shortcuts. This little minibus can belt along when I get her up to speed…’
‘Oh, we don’t want to be speeding.’ Denise frowned.
Lil elbowed Maggie and whispered softly. ‘This is great, isn’t it? Better than watching Brian watch TV. Much more entertaining.’
Maggie nodded, holding out her hand. ‘And the chocolates are nice.’
Cassie was back in the minibus. ‘Right, I’ve spoken to Jenny and we’ve agreed she’ll take the car to a garage where her brother-in-law works and he’ll fix it. I don’t think there’s much damage done and we’ll sort out any payment when we’re back.’ She breathed out. ‘So – let’s go.’
Tommy started the engine again, edging forward and then reversing while Jake shouted instructions from the back seat. ‘Left hand down, now stop. Stop! No, no, go left now. Back a bit, no, a bit more – stop, stop, Tommy, stop!’
DJ burst out laughing. ‘Right, you’re there now, Tommy – the road is that wide grey tarmacked thing just in front of you now. My days, do you think you’ll be all right driving by yourself?’
A dismissive snort came from the driver’s seat and Cassie’s calm voice could be heard whispering something about how Tommy should programme the satnav. Lil patted Maggie’s arm.
‘We’re off, Maggie. Portsmouth here we come. I can’t wait. We’ll have such fun.’
Lil noticed the concern in Maggie’s eyes and reached into her cat handbag for the packet of chocolate triangles. As she looked up, she noticed Albert in the seat opposite turn to her and hold out his flat bony hand with a hopeful expression. He offered her a charming smile and she smiled back.
It was early evening, after five, the minibus was safely stowed in the car deck, and the ferry was in motion. Duncan and Tommy had led everyone into the bar and the five-a-side team, Lil, Maggie and Duncan’s father, Albert, were sitting around a large table full of drinks and crisp packets, chattering. Further down, perched at a high table on stools, Cassie, Sue and Denise were sharing their hopes for the holiday while waiting for Ken, who was at the bar, having offered to buy them all a drink.
‘The thing is—’ Sue was applying fresh lipstick ‘—I have been working far too hard. I manage a group of florists and, my dear, you wouldn’t imagine the work it takes to keep them all up and running. I only hope they won’t mess up my ordering system while I’m away.’
‘It’s the same for me, Syoo,’ Denise pointed out. ‘I am solely responsible for paying so many people’s wages on time. I make sure everything is done properly. It’s a matter of professional pride.’
Cassie was sympathetic. ‘I think you both deserve a break from work. It sounds exhausting.’
Sue nodded. ‘You’re a professional poet, aren’t you, Cassie? I’ve seen you perform in The Jolly Weaver so often. Last Christmas, the entire tennis club – all twenty of us – came to the Boxing Day open mic session. Do you remember – we all got up to sing the “Twelve Days of Christmas”?’
‘I remember it well.’ Cassie’s eyes shone. ‘I think every number after six was the maids a-milking.’
Sue boomed loudly. ‘We’d been on the sherry just a little.’ She glanced at Denise. ‘That was all before you arrived in Salterley, Denise.’
‘I do enjoy singing though, Syoo. It’s been said many a time that I have a good voice.’
Sue sniffed. ‘Cassie sings well. I’ve heard you. And you play the banjo, don’t you, my dear?’
Cassie nodded. ‘Light relief from the poems. Lil gave me the banjo when I was a little one and I picked it up straight away. As some famous Irish musician once said, any ould shite can play a banjo…’ She glanced up as Ken arrived carrying a tray of glasses. He put them down in front of the three women.
‘Here – two G and Ts, a grapefruit juice for me and your pint of bitter, Cassie.’
She reached for her glass and took a deep drink. ‘Thanks, Ken – that’s very nice of you.’
He sat down and adjusted his cravat. ‘It’s my pleasure.’ He beamed at the women. ‘The wine on these ferries is bog-standard. I can’t drink it. Grapefruit juice is so refreshing.’
Sue cleared her throat. ‘You’re married, aren’t you, Cassie? I’ve seen you in The Weaver with a man, the one with the walking stick. He’s your husband, isn’t he, my dear?’
‘Housemate,’ Cassie muttered between sips. ‘He’s called Jamie.’
Denise breathed out in a huff. ‘Oh, I’m divorced now, thank goodness. You’re the same as me, aren’t you, Syoo?’
‘I left my husband two years ago, Denise. And I have to say, my life has improved tremendously. He was a scumbag.’
Denise opened her eyes wide, as if a little shocked by Sue’s strong words. ‘I left Bob last year and moved here. He was a scumbag too.’ She gazed hopefully at Ken. ‘Are you divorced, Ken?'
‘I’m afraid so.’ He shrugged sadly. ‘My ex-wife, Caroline, and I didn’t really share the same concept of partnership. She was very quiet, domestic: she stayed home baking while I needed more stimulation from e
xternal things – museums, travel, and meeting interesting people.’ He raised an eyebrow in Cassie’s direction. ‘It’s good to be in the company of someone with an artistic bent.’
Cassie swallowed more beer.
‘I wanted to talk to you all,’ Sue began, ‘because I think we four share a common interest. While I’m delighted the others are going to enjoy a fabulous ten days drinking and playing football, I’m here because I want to immerse myself in the culture and I think you are all of a similar mindset, my dears.’
‘Absolutely, Syoo,’ Denise enthused. ‘Certainly, I know that we members of the tennis club share the same passions.’ She glanced at Cassie, who met her eyes and smiled.
‘I’ve been reading about Belgium a lot, the cities we’ll visit, the architecture, the history.’ Ken raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m very keen on history. I do lots of lectures at the local library in between writing my books. When Duncan the barman rang me personally and told me about this trip, I said I’d be delighted to come along and share my knowledge.’
Sue sat upright. ‘Oh, you’re an author?’
‘Yes, I am.’ Ken nodded, sipping his grapefruit juice. ‘I do quite nicely – it keeps the wolf from the door.’
’That sounds idyllic.’ Denise sighed. ‘Writing and travelling all the time. It certainly beats sitting in a smelly office behind a computer.’
‘So, as I was saying, my dear.’ Sue waved an authoritative finger. ‘I imagine we four will spend a lot of time together; we have all that in common, love of museums, art, architecture, fine food and wine. So, I thought we’d make a little pact, sort of set up a friendship group, and keep an eye out for each other.’
‘I do like a good robust wine,’ Denise agreed. ‘Don’t you, Ken?’
‘I have spent a long time studying wine,’ Ken admitted, brushing imaginary dust from his blazer. ‘I have a good palate, I’m told.’