by Judy Leigh
Ken nodded sadly. They were approaching the tower; the clock at the top showed that the time was ten to six. Suddenly Cassie yelped with excitement and called out, ‘There she is. Look.’
She pointed a finger and then wriggled free of Ken’s arm, rushing towards an older woman with a cloud of white hair who had just appeared through the entrance to the tower, a wide grin on her face. Lil was followed into the square by Albert, who was smiling and shuffling his feet. Finally, a third figure in a faux-fur coat hobbled forwards with a slow, painful sway.
Lil called out: ‘Cassie – I thought you’d got lost. We’ve just had a great time. Albie and I climbed to the top of the tower and looked down. The view was magnificent, all the little people and all the little buildings – you’d have loved it, Ken. But we might need to help Maggie walk back to the hotel, bless her – I think she’s pulled a muscle in her bum coming down those last three steps…’
14
‘This is just the best place yet. The first round is on me, folks.’ Duncan’s eyes shone and twelve other pairs watched him as he fumbled in his jeans pocket for his wallet. ‘I’ve spent too much on beer today and Kerry will kill me anyway, so I’m sure a few more euros to treat my friends to some special craft ales won’t matter much in the grand scheme of things…’
They were sitting around tall barrel tables inside The Trappiste, a hops-scented bar with high vaulted arches accessed by walking down stone steps into a cool medieval cellar. Huge chandeliers hung from the domed ceilings, shedding soft, yellow light. Maggie had not accompanied them: she had complained of aches and pains throughout dinner and decided to stay in the hotel to rest her feet, her legs, her hips and her back, all of which she said were giving her excruciating agony. Lil had to agree that she was exhausted too. She’d promised that she’d only have one drink, then she’d return to the room she and Maggie were sharing and bring her a beer back. She’d have a long soak in the en suite bath and sleep like a log.
Lil had finished the Fifty Shades of Hay novel and just started Frolics in the House. She had moved the old photo of Frankie with his arm around her to the pages of the first chapter. She was currently reading about the capers of Jill, a young, innocent politics intern from Colorado, and Garfield, her hard-boiled forty-year-old employer, who was also Minister for Foreign Affairs. She glanced across at Denise, who was listening to Ken, her mouth turned down, and decided to lend her the book when she’d finished: it might cheer her up.
Ken was holding forth about his visit to the basilica, enthusiastically explaining that he had been impressed by the relic of the Holy Blood of Christ, allegedly collected by Joseph of Arimathea. Sue agreed: the building had a most powerful atmosphere; she had felt a definite sacred presence, a sense of being in a sanctified building. Denise mumbled about feeling nothing but cold because the place was so draughty. Sue turned her sweetest smile on Ken and boomed that she’d had a wonderful time. Tommy perked up at the word draught, his eyes searching for Duncan, who was on his way back from the bar with a tray brimming with frothing glasses of beer. Behind him, a shining sign over the bar composed of little yellow lights spelled out the word bier.
Cassie arrived, just behind Duncan, carrying another loaded tray. As if by magic, DJ, Jake and Pat appeared from nowhere and grabbed a glass each, sitting down at the huge barrel tables. Albert, sitting next to Denise, swathed in his old overcoat as always, reached out a gnarled hand, picked up a pint of Kerst Pater and brought it to his mouth, froth settling on his top lip like a pale moustache.
Sue and Denise had chosen a lager called Malheur; Cassie had jokingly warned them against it, suggesting that no drink would be called ‘unhappiness’ without good reason. Denise had taken two gulps and retorted that it was delicious, and she intended to have several more Malheurs before retiring to the room she would share with Sue, which was, unfortunately, directly above the street and she would probably be kept awake for half of the night by drunken brawling youths. Sue countered that she hoped she wouldn’t be kept awake by someone’s incessant snoring. DJ and Jake were joking together, drinking Delirium; Ken and Lil sipped glasses of La Trappe Blond and everyone else was sampling the Cosmic Tripel. A few tables away, a young man with long hair had started to play a banjo and several people in the bar were singing along.
Sue leaned towards Ken, and purred, ‘I’ll give you a taste of my Malheur if you’ll give me some of your Trappe Blond, my dear.’ Ken’s eyebrows shot upwards as he passed his glass to Sue, who winked at him and swallowed a large gulp of his beer.
Denise sat upright and flicked her hair. ‘I’d like to taste some of yours too, Ken. After you, Syoo.’ She spoke too loudly, knitting her eyebrows and glancing at Cassie.
Cassie held out her glass. ‘You’re welcome to try some of my Cosmic Tripel, Denise.’
‘No, thanks.’ Denise frowned.
‘I’ll sample some of yours, if you like.’ Ken gazed at Cassie hopefully.
Across the table, Albert had finished his pint and Tommy was on his way to the bar for another round, waving to Cassie in the hope that she’d come and help him. She stood up, placing a kiss on the top of Lil’s head as she brushed past.
Lil was busy chatting to DJ and Jake. ‘So, what do you all do for a living?’
DJ scratched the stubble beneath his tiny locks. ‘I’m doing some work on an advert for a kids’ breakfast cereal, animating aliens from a far-off planet.’ He wrapped an arm around Jake and laughed. ‘He’s my model.’
Jake shrugged. ‘I’m just a plumber. Emily designs submarines, which must be way more fun than cleaning out U-bends for a living.’
‘Jake’s a great artist, though,’ Emily enthused. ‘He did a wonderful portrait for my mum of our dog, Goldie.’
Lil frowned. ‘Your boyfriend is a marine, isn’t he, Emily?’
‘Yes, he’s away at the moment.’ Emily was suddenly serious.
DJ patted her arm. ‘I’m glad we came on holiday together. We’ll have some fun, Em. Better than moping at home.’
‘Emily never mopes,’ Pat butted in. ‘She’s really strong.’
‘Thanks, Pat.’ Emily gave him an affectionate hug.
‘Pat stays at home after work, Lil. He just makes model soldiers.’ Jake laughed. ‘So, we need to find him a nice girlfriend. Everyone agreed?’
Lil was delighted. ‘What sort of girl are you looking for?’
Pat glanced up as Tommy placed a tray of beers on the table and shrugged. ‘I’m not sure what my type would be.’
‘Someone who’ll put up with him,’ DJ spluttered.
‘Someone who likes men with red hair,’ Jake joked.
‘She just has to be female.’ Tommy had overheard, joining in the banter as Pat’s cheeks glowed red.
‘Don’t be mean,’ Emily interrupted them all and put an arm round Pat, whose shoulders dipped awkwardly. ‘Pat’s lovely – he’d be a good catch for any girl.’
Pat sighed. ‘I’d just want someone who loves me for who I am. She wouldn’t need to be glamorous or rich, just kind and good-natured. She’d be the sort who’d be a good mum one day, and she’d want to share everything equally, decisions, housework, bills…’
He glanced around the table. Everyone was listening to him. Even Albert, who was holding his fresh glass of ale, was nodding sagely.
Lil gazed around. ‘Where’s Cassie?’
Heads turned in unison to where Cassie was talking to the long-haired young man, who was smiling and nodding. He passed his banjo to her then stood up and announced through a microphone to everyone in the bar. ‘This is Cassie from England. She’s going to sing a song she wrote for us all in this bar, just two minutes ago.’
Cassie surveyed her audience, a huddle of drinkers who had turned their eyes on her with interest. She held the banjo close to her body and strummed a few notes, then she beamed and announced, ‘Goeden avond, hello, I’m Cassie Ryan.’
A hearty applause echoed around her. Duncan and Tommy led the cheers, their fists thumping
the table. Emily shouted out, ‘Go, Cass.’
Cassie turned to the long-haired young man, who was sitting nearby. ‘Thank you, Maxim, for lending me this lovely banjo. So, a while ago, I was standing at the bar with Duncan waiting to be served with these fantastic Belgian ales…’ Another whoop came from around the bar. ‘And as I was listening to Max singing and playing, I just came up with this little ditty.’ Her fingers drifted to the strings, plucking various notes, a lively opening tune. Then she began to sing a folksy song, her voice strong, her eyes rolling with mischief.
I know a man from The Jolly Weaver,
He loves his wife – he’d never deceive her
But now we’re here I’m sure he’d leave her
For the fabulous beer in Bruges.
There was laughter from the English drinkers and a shout of protest from Duncan. Cassie continued to sing, her fingers expertly picking the strings.
So here we all are, enjoying a tipple,
A Trappe Blonde and a Cosmic Tripel
After several more our livers will pickle
With the fabulous beer in Bruges.
Tommy’s wild belly-laughter could be heard from across the room. Ken was clapping furiously, and Duncan was shouting something loudly. Cassie launched into a third verse.
We’ve had a great day, the town is delightful
The buildings and history, completely insightful
But we can’t drink more or we’d all be quite full
Of the fabulous beer in Bruges.
By the final line, everyone in the bar had raised their glasses and was singing along, then there was an eruption of cheers, applause and hooting. Cassie gave a little bow before handing the banjo back to the young man, who kissed her hand and smiled so widely his cheeks creased.
Cassie came back to sit at the little barrel tables, all eyes on her, everyone clapping. Ken puffed out his chest proudly. ‘Well done, Cassie.’
Pat was open-mouthed. ‘Did you just make that up there and then?’
‘Pretty much,’ Cassie admitted, sitting down and reaching for her ale. ‘It wasn’t that difficult.’
‘It’s our theme song.’ Tommy’s face shone. ‘Weaver’s booze cruise in Bruges. Try saying that ten times after you’ve had a few drinks.’
DJ and Jake immediately tried to repeat the words, becoming tongue-tied after several goes. Denise wrinkled her nose. ‘This is hardly a booze cruise, Cassie. I think it’s a mistake to imply that it is. While we’re enjoying the cultural richness of each place we visit, our interest in the alcohol is purely intellectual.’ She held up her beer, then took a deep draught. Her glass was almost empty.
Cassie’s eyes shone. ‘I saw the banjo and I just had to play it. I asked Max if I could borrow it. He was very sweet to let me.’
‘She has a banjo at home,’ Lil muttered. ‘I gave it to her. Her father left it behind at my house when he moved away.’ She shrugged. ‘He didn’t leave anything else.’
Ken arranged his cravat at his throat. ‘That was a lovely little ode though. But tomorrow, we have free time in the morning before we move on and I’m going to climb the Belfort tower. Who’d like to accompany me?’ He gazed around the table, his eyes falling on Cassie. She was chatting to Emily.
‘Too many steps for me, Ken,’ Duncan admitted, offering a glowing smile. ‘I’ll probably be sleeping this lot off.’ He waved his glass mischievously.
‘I’ll come, my dear,’ Sue boomed.
‘Count me in,’ Denise added.
‘I can recommend it.’ Lil had perked up; she winked across at Albert conspiratorially. ‘Albert and I had a great view from the top, didn’t we, Albie?’
Albert moved his mouth softly, his lips forming the word, ‘Lovely,’ before bringing his beer glass to his mouth.
The next morning, Lil was seated between Albert and Maggie on a bench on the banks of a canal. Ken had taken a small group to the tower, Cassie insisting that she’d have to climb to the top of the belfry now her mother had done so. DJ, Pat, Emily and Jake had gone shopping for souvenirs. Duncan hadn’t made it to breakfast. Tommy had told everyone to meet back at the hotel by twelve and then he’d disappeared into Market Square to buy some ‘local produce’ to take home with him. Lil jokingly suggested he didn’t buy anything that had wired-on corks and was likely to detonate in the minibus.
Lil was listening to Maggie complain about how much her legs ached. Albert nodded; he had been shuffling his feet even more slowly this morning. Lil was aware her hip hurt, but she thought the walk to the canal would help with their mobility. As they sat in the sunshine and watched the swans glide past, leaving ruffled water behind them, she was glad to sit quietly and appreciate the beauty of the Minnewater with green trees and tall churches reflected symmetrically in the mirror-clear surface.
‘I gave in and texted Brian.’ Maggie groaned. ‘He hasn’t answered any of my messages.’ She turned a distraught face to Lil. ‘I’ve texted him four times now and – nothing.’
‘He will.’
‘What would you do, if you were me?’ Maggie was distraught. ‘Living with a husband who doesn’t care – who doesn’t even know I’ve gone on holiday?’
‘He does care, Maggie. He just needs to open his eyes and realise that he has a lovely wife, and learn to pay attention to her again. He’s probably thinking that right now.’
‘Are you sure?’ Maggie was sad. ‘He hasn’t noticed me properly in ages.’
‘Forget him for now and concentrate on enjoying yourself. It’s Maggie time.’
Albert nodded. Maggie was thoughtful. ‘Maggie time, yes. Do you know, I’ve never put myself first, not in all my married life.’
‘Well, start now.’ Lil shrugged. ‘I know you love Brian and I’m sure he worships you, once he stops to think about it. But when you get back, the rules will have to change. Less of Charlie’s Angels and more of Brian’s Maggie.’
‘Maggie time. You’re right, Lil,’ Maggie agreed. ‘And look at this lovely place, this beautiful river. It’s made me feel much calmer, being here on holiday. I’m having a good time and I’m valuing myself; for the first time in ages, I know I’m worth more than being stuck in the background. I’m not going to be Brian’s servant any more. I’m starting to see things from a different viewpoint.’
‘Go, Maggie. I’m so pleased.’ Lil linked an arm through Maggie’s and then through Albert’s. ‘And talking about a different viewpoint…’ she gave them a hopeful smile ‘…let’s cross the bridge, shall we, and see how it looks from the other side? I’m sure we three can help each other to drag our aching old bones a bit further and then I’ll buy us all a nice cup of coffee.’
15
Everyone had taken their places on the minibus. Cassie was strapping Lil in safely, arranging cushions, checking that she was comfortable. There was laughter in her eyes as she said, ‘Did you really go across the bridge together? All three of you, arm in arm?’
‘What’s so funny about that?’ Lil grunted.
‘The idea of you and Maggie and Albert crossing the Minnewater bridge together is hilarious.’
‘Why? We’re not in our coffins yet. We can still walk…’ Lil was offended.
‘No, it’s not that. It’s just that… Minnewater’s known as the Lake of Love.’ Cassie wiped her eyes.
Maggie stared open-mouthed and repeated, ‘Lake of Love?’
Ken’s voice piped up from two seats behind. ‘The legend tells that Minna was a beautiful young girl in love with Stromberg, a warrior of a neighbouring tribe, but she was promised to someone else, so she ran away and died of exhaustion in her lover’s arms.’
‘Oh, no!’ Maggie exclaimed. ‘That’s a terrible way to go, dying of exhaustion. I almost died of it myself, climbing the steps of that belfry tower.’
‘They say that if you walk over the lake bridge with someone, as you three did this morning,’ Cassie explained, ‘you will experience eternal love.’ She hugged her mother. ‘So, there you are, Lil – you, Magg
ie and Albert, together forever, thanks to the myth of Minnewater.’
Cassie placed an affectionate hand on Lil’s arm and kissed the top of her head. Lil snorted softly, muttering under her breath. She watched as Cassie moved to the front of the bus, strapping herself in the passenger seat next to Tommy. Lil wasn’t listening when Tommy announced that it would be a short drive of an hour and a half to a farm just south of Antwerp, a few miles from a place called Boom. He explained that they’d be hosted by a local family and they’d really get the flavour of true Belgian hospitality. Lil was deep in thought as the minibus engine began to rumble and the wheels thrummed on the road as they weaved through the traffic.
Lil watched as the beautiful buildings of Bruges were replaced by tall trees and long stretches of fields. She stared out of the window. They were in the heart of the countryside. She listened to fragments of conversation coming from the front. Tommy was telling Cassie that he’d enjoyed the beers he drank last night but was glad that he at least knew when to stop, unlike Duncan, who clearly didn’t: the owner of The Jolly Weaver had been incoherent by the time they’d reached the hotel. Lil turned her head to survey the other passengers; most were chattering excitedly or reading, but Duncan was asleep with his head on Albert’s shoulder, his mouth open.
In the front seat, Cassie was chatting with Tommy. Lil overheard her talking about Jamie; apparently, Cassie had phoned him last night and he’d wanted to know all about her performance in The Trappiste, and what she’d thought of the beer. Lil wondered why her daughter rang Jamie every night. It was clear that they liked each other. Lil wondered how close they were, and whether she was being selfish, dragging Cassie away on holiday when she might have had more fun with someone her own age. Lil heard the affectionate tone of Cassie’s voice; she was fond of Jamie. Lil often wondered what would happen to her daughter after she passed, whether old age would leave Cassie by herself, lonely. But loyal Jamie kept her company; he would care for her.