‘Ellen never touches alcohol,’ Shirley told Jane in a quiet voice as they sipped their golden wine, but her words were not critical or derisory. ‘She had very strict parents, you see – dyed-in-the-wool Methodists – and it’s had quite an effect of her, poor Ellen. Although I don’t know why I say “poor Ellen”. She’s a very contented person, she tries to find good in everything and everyone. She’s a good friend to me; we’ve known one another for ages … haven’t we, Ellen?’ she said as her friend looked across at them and smiled.
‘Yes. Would you believe we started infant school together?’ said Ellen. ‘We lived in the same street and our parents knew one another.’
Jane learnt that this was in the mid-fifties. She estimated their age as fifty-five or so, ten years older than herself. They had progressed to the same secondary school and had both left at sixteen, Ellen to work in a bank, and Shirley to follow her bent for fashion and design, training as a window dresser at a store in Manchester where they both lived; not in Manchester itself but in nearby Salford. Shirley had moved on to a more prestigious store in the city, where she was the chief window dresser, and Ellen still worked in the same bank.
‘It’s only recently, though, about four years ago,’ said Ellen, ‘that we started going on holiday together, although we’d always kept in touch. I was looking after my elderly parents, you see. They died five years ago, both of them in the same year, God bless them …’
‘And that was the time when my marriage came to grief,’ said Shirley. She gave a rueful smile. ‘The least said about that the better! I’ve decided I’m quite happy on my own. I’ve lots of friends, though; women friends, I mean. I wouldn’t get married again. Once bitten twice shy.’
‘I’m a widow, too,’ said Jane quietly. She smiled. ‘We were very happy. I never thought I would—’ she stopped suddenly – ‘what I mean to say is … it’s the first time I’ve been away on my own. But I’m very glad I came.’
Shirley smiled at her in a confidential way. ‘You’re enjoying it then … more than you thought you would?’
Jane nodded. ‘Yes, indeed I am,’ she answered. ‘I’m having a lovely time.’
Coffee was served in the adjoining lounge before they all went their separate ways.
‘Shall we take a walk along the riverside?’ Dave said to Jane. ‘Then we could have a drink on the Drosselgasse later on. I know it will probably be heaving with tourists, but you can’t come to Rüdesheim without seeing its famous street. You’ve heard of it, have you?’
‘Yes, I have,’ said Jane. ‘Anyway, what are we but tourists like all the rest? I’ll just change my skirt for a pair of trousers.’
They walked away from the town up to the part of the river where the cruise ships that travelled along the Rhine and Moselle were berthed for the night. They crossed the railway line that ran alongside the river to take a closer look at them. They were nowhere near the size of the QE2 and other ocean-going liners, but they were handsome-looking vessels, streamlined and gleaming white, some cabins having windows and others with portholes.
‘I should imagine that’s a nice leisurely way to see the sights,’ observed Jane. ‘Like the cruise we had this afternoon, but every day. And a different stopping place each night.’
‘And not so rushed as a coach tour,’ said Dave. ‘Not that I’m complaining. But it’s a thought for the future, maybe …’ His words lingered on the air as they smiled at one another, crossing the railway line back to the main promenade.
‘Hello there,’ called a cheery voice. ‘Seeing what Rüdesheim has to offer, are you?’ Mike and Bill were walking towards them, smartly dressed in their regulation bright blue blazers with the Galaxy motif on the pocket and blue and red striped ties. They were both smoking as they were not on duty. This was forbidden on the coaches, of course, for passengers as well as drivers, as it had been for many years. But they often indulged in the weed when they stopped for coffee and lunch breaks, as did some of the travellers.
‘Yes, it’s a lovely little town,’ replied Jane. ‘It’s the first time I’ve been to these parts, and it’s all so new and interesting.’
‘Glad you’re enjoying it,’ said Bill. ‘See you later …’
‘A nice couple,’ he remarked to Mike, as they strolled back towards the town. ‘They’ve only just met, at least that’s how I see it. They seem to be getting on very well. What do you bet there’s a romance in the air? It won’t be the first one I’ve seen.’
‘Nor me,’ replied Mike. ‘You’re probably right. Jolly good luck to them … What about your love life, eh? Is it still on with the lovely Lise?’
Lise was a waitress at the hotel where they were staying that night, with whom Bill had been having a casual relationship. He visited the place every few weeks, sometimes with Mike, sometimes not, according to the schedules. Mike knew that they always had a drink together; only a half or a shandy, though, because there was a strict rule that Galaxy drivers must not drink when on duty, and they knew it was foolish not to obey. The drivers shared a room, and Mike knew that his colleague would be missing for part of the night, so he drew his own conclusions.
‘No,’ Bill answered curtly, in answer to Mike’s question. ‘I’m afraid not. It seems I’ve got my marching orders. She told me when we arrived that she’s friendly with one of the porters now, so that’s that! But I’m not bothered … You’ll have noticed the girl – the young woman, I should say – on the front seat? She’s called Christine Harper.’
‘I did, and I saw you talking to her while I was driving. She’s with her mother, isn’t she?’
‘Actually, it’s her elder sister, quite a bit older I imagine. She lost her husband last year – the older one, I mean – and reading between the lines, I think that Christine is recovering from a broken relationship. So they decided to come on holiday together, the first time they’ve done so.’
‘So you’re on first name terms. Christine, eh? You fancy your chances there, do you?’ Mike was laughing, but Bill answered more seriously.
‘I’ve between thinking it’s time I settled down. I know what you think of me – a girl in every port, so to speak. I’ve played the field, but I’m getting older now, and it’s time I looked to the future. I’m forty now, time to think about a more stable relationship; a home and marriage, kids maybe, though I might have left it a bit late for that.’
‘I don’t see why, if you’re really serious about settling down,’ said Mike. ‘But our job isn’t exactly conducive to a settled life, is it? My wife’s been getting on to me about it. She’d like me to give up these Continental tours and do the ones in the UK. I’d see more of the family that way. They’re mostly five-day tours, so you get home every weekend.’
‘And how do you feel about that?’ asked Bill.
Mike shrugged. ‘There’s for and against. I must admit I enjoy coming over here. We’re not always on the same tour, and you see a bit of the world. And I try to make it interesting for the clients, you and me both, of course. I know some of the blokes just do their job, drive from A to B with hardly a word about the sights and all that. But the folk do like to know about the places they’re visiting. I know they’ve got guide books, and maps, too, some of ’em, following the route. God knows why! They’re not doing the driving.’
‘Yes, I think we do our best for them,’ said Bill. ‘They seem a good crowd this time, a mixed age group. No problems so far, touch wood.’ He tapped his forehead. ‘So … what are you going to do? Will you ask if you can go on the UK jobs, to please Sally?’
‘I can see what she means,’ said Mike. ‘The kids are getting to a difficult age. Tracey’s fifteen now, studying for her GCSEs next year. At least she’s supposed to be studying, but she’s got in with a daft crowd at school. Staying out late, and Sally thinks she might be going into pubs. And she’s wanting to go to late-night discos. Sally’s said no to that, and it’s caused friction between them. Tracey can be a right little madam.’
‘So Sally wants yo
u to be at home and lay the law down, does she?’
‘I’ve never been much good at playing the heavy-handed father. I was a bit of a tearaway myself, till I met Sal, so I suppose I can remember what it’s like. Our Gary’s only twelve; he’s a good kid, no problems there so far. Anyway, we’ll see. I’ve told her I’ll think about it this week.’
‘I’d miss you if you were based at home,’ said Bill. ‘I know we’re not always on the same tour. But I’m glad when we are. They’re not all as easy as you are to work with.’
‘Nice of you to say so.’ Mike grinned at him. ‘The same goes for you, of course. So … what about you and Christine? Have you tested the water there?’
‘As a matter of fact, I’ve asked her to have a drink with me in the hotel bar, later tonight. I said ten o’clock. I know they’ll all want to see the town first.’
‘What about her sister?’
‘Oh, I think I’ve made it clear. They were sitting with two other ladies at dinner time, and they all seemed to be getting on well. I dare say Norah – that’s her sister – will take the hint.’
‘Unless she’s the overprotective sort?’
‘Well, we’ll see won’t we? I tell you what, though; I must try and get some of this off if I want to make a good impression.’ He patted his rather corpulent stomach. ‘The trouble is I can’t resist these strudels and dumplings and the Black Forest gateaux at the next place. It’s too tempting, and they do feed us up, don’t they, because we’re doing the driving?’
Mike laughed. ‘You can always say no. It’s our lifestyle as well, all this sitting at the wheel every day, and lack of exercise, except for a stroll in the evening. What about your other lady friend, Olga? Isn’t that a bit more serious?’
Olga was a receptionist at the hotel in the Black Forest. It was common knowledge that she and Bill were ‘an item’, at least whilst he was staying there. They had been friendly for a couple of years.
‘I really ought to make a clean break there,’ said Bill. ‘We both agreed the last time we met that it was going nowhere. I don’t see how it can really. I’ll see how it goes this week with Christine. She might decide she doesn’t like me. But it struck me as soon as I met her that she’s a nice homely sort of girl, the sort I should be looking for.’
‘Pretty as well, though,’ said Mike. ‘I couldn’t see you being interested if she wasn’t. Anyway, the best of luck, mate.’
They had turned aside to look in one of the shop windows on the promenade. ‘D’you think anyone buys this junk?’ said Bill. ‘Just look at it!’
A lot of it was junk, as Bill had said. Small statuettes of the Lorelei maiden; plates, mugs, ashtrays, tea towels, all emblazoned with pictures of Rüdesheim and the River Rhine; beer steins with pewter lids; dolls dressed in national costume; cheap jewellery, perfume bottles, souvenir pens and pencils. Amidst the dross, though, there was some merchandise for the more discerning. Hummel figurines of cute rosy-cheeked children; a boy sitting on the branch of an apple tree; a girl driving home the geese; another holding a bouquet of flowers.
There was a rack of postcards in the doorway – the shop was still open to catch the passing trade – depicting the highlights of the area. The famous Drosselgasse with its half-timbered houses and numerous Wienstuben; the Lorelei maiden on her rock; the vineyards sloping steeply down to the river; the Brömserburg Castle, the oldest one on the Rhine; and the Niederwald Monument after which the hotel was named. It could be viewed from the road, a thirty-seven-metre-high statue known as Germania, built as an expression of power following the Franco-Prussian war in the nineteenth century. A cable lift took visitors up to view the sword-brandishing Valkyrie, but there was rarely time for tourists staying for only one night to take the trip.
‘Who knows what you might buy if you were on holiday?’ said Mike. ‘Some of it is tat, I agree, but it might well bring back happy memories. Come on, let’s get back to the hotel, then you can get ready for your date with the lovely Christine. I hope it turns out well.’
Dave and Jane set off together for a stroll around the town. They ended up, as tourists did at least once, in the Drosselgasse. As was to be expected it was crowded and noisy, but a scene not to be missed. Dusk was falling, and lights streamed out from the myriad of shop windows; many of the souvenir shops were still open along with the hamburger stalls. The sound of merry laughter and singing drifted from the many Wienstuben where tourists, and locals as well, sat at long tables drinking lager and joining in the German drinking songs, many of them familiar back home in the UK.
‘Might this be too noisy for you, too raucous?’ asked Dave with a grin as they stopped outside one of the wine bars.
‘No, why should it be?’ replied Jane. ‘It’s not something I would normally do, but we’re on holiday, aren’t we? And you can’t come here without joining in the fun, just once.’
‘That’s all it will be,’ replied Dave. ‘Just once. Tomorrow night we’ll be in the Black Forest, although there’ll be ample opportunity for a ‘knees up’ there as well. Come on, let’s see if we can find a seat.’ He took her hand and guided her to a space on a long bench, not too far from the doorway. From there they could watch the passing crowds as well as the activity in the room.
Everyone seated at the bare wooden table was friendly and in a holiday mood.
‘How do?’ A man with a Yorkshire accent greeted them as they sat down opposite him. ‘Enjoying yerselves?’
‘Yes, very much,’ answered Jane politely. ‘Are you?’
‘Yes, we’re on a river cruise,’ said the woman next to him. ‘We’re berthed here for the night, then we’re heading off to Koblenz and the Moselle river. It’s the first time we’ve been on one. It’s champion, isn’t it, Joe?’
‘I’ll say it is. You must try it next year, the pair of you,’ said Joe.
Dave laughed. ‘We’ll bear it in mind,’ he replied, and Jane felt herself blushing.
It wasn’t long before a waitress in a dirndl skirt and peasant blouse came to take their order. Dave ordered two glasses of lager which soon arrived, full to the brim with a frothy head on them.
It was too noisy for any meaningful conversations. The voices around them were mainly English, though they could hear snatches of French, Italian and, of course, German. Jane couldn’t imagine why the locals would come here, unless they were from a different part of Germany with different customs, and were on holiday, just as they were.
A little while later a group of men dressed in lederhosen; short leather breeches with coloured braces, thick woollen socks and heavy brogues and wearing green felt hats with a feather in the brim, mounted the stage at the end of the room. There followed an entertainment of dancing, consisting of stamping and thigh slapping, singing along to an accordion, and a comedy routine where they all punched and knocked each other about. It was well received by the audience, who joined in the choruses of the songs, lah-lah-ing if they didn’t know the words. Jane felt her inhibitions fast disappearing as she joined in with the rest.
When the entertainment came to an end Dave put an arm round her shoulders. ‘Shall we go?’ he asked quietly. ‘It’s an early start tomorrow.’
She nodded in agreement, and he held her hand as they made their way to the door and out into the still busy street. He continued to hold her hand as they strolled back the half mile or so to the hotel, neither of them speaking very much, both deep in their own thoughts.
They collected their keys at the reception desk – they were too heavy to carry around – then they took the lift up to the second floor. When they stopped at Jane’s door, Dave took hold of her shoulders; then he leaned forward and, gently and softly, kissed her lips, just once.
‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Jane,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘See you in the morning.’
‘Thank you, too,’ she replied. ‘I’ve had a lovely time.’
As she stepped into the room she felt suffused with a quiet joy. She smiled, and almost laughed out loud. Was t
his really happening to her, the reserved and rather shy Jane Redfern? She couldn’t remember when she had felt so happy and carefree; certainly never since … since Tom had died. The thought of him subdued her for a moment. She could never, ever forget him; but maybe it was time, now, to look forward and not back.
Seven
Mike had told them that it would be a nine o’clock start the following morning, which was not too early. They must leave promptly although the journey to a little village in the Black Forest, not too far from Freiburg, would not be too long or too arduous.
To some of the party, however, it seemed very early to be up and about. As they stood on the forecourt of the hotel whilst Mike and Bill loaded the cases on to the coach, much of the talk was about the sleepless night that some of them had endured.
‘Those blessed trains! No sooner did I drop off to sleep than another one hurtled along the track.’
‘All very well having a river view, but nobody told us, did they, that we’d be kept awake half the night by the bloody trains?’
‘We were alright; our room was at the back. We were disappointed that we didn’t have a nice view, weren’t we, Bob? But it seems that we came off best.’
‘D’you think they run all through the night?’
‘Well, I suppose they must stop sometime, but they start off again too bloomin’ early.’
Mike and Bill listened with half an ear to the comments of the passengers. They had heard them all before; it was the same every time. It would serve no useful purpose, though, to tell them beforehand that they might be kept awake by the passing trains. Better to let them find out for themselves. After all, it was only for one night. The rest of the holiday in the quaint little village hotel in the Black Forest would be as quiet as anyone could wish.
First Impressions Page 8
