First Impressions

by Margaret Thornton

  He laughed at her bemused expression. They had made up their differences now and were enjoying one another’s company.

  ‘I should have told you about Olga,’ he had said. ‘I had decided to finish it before I met you. I thought she would agree that there’s no future in it. But … you saw how she reacted when she saw me with you.’

  ‘And I can’t say I blame her,’ said Christine. ‘I’ll spend some time with you this week, Bill. But nothing too heavy, eh? And then we’ll see.’

  ‘Suits me,’ replied Bill; but he was finding that he liked her more and more.

  Everyone agreed on boarding the coach a couple of hours later that they had enjoyed the day immensely. Shirley was still feeling cross, though, as she hadn’t been able to find a shop that sold underwear, let alone any decent clothing. Surely the German women had to buy knickers and bras?

  ‘They probably do their clothes shopping in Freiburg,’ said Ellen patiently. ‘We’re going there on Saturday, and we’re going to Baden Baden tomorrow. There’s sure to be a large store there that sells panties. Until then I’ll lend you two more pairs,’ she whispered. And with that, Shirley had to be content.

  Mike put on a tape of well-known German songs as they drove back, and those who didn’t doze off joined in with the singing of ‘Valderee, Valderah …’ The holiday was going well.

  Eleven

  The dining room was filled with the noise of excited chatter as the folk of the coach party discussed the events of the day with their table companions. It seemed as though they had known one another for ages although it was really only four days. Some, maybe, would form a friendship, exchange addresses and send a card or letter at Christmas. For others it would just be a holiday acquaintanceship, good while it lasted, but receding to the back of the mind when they were home again. Mike and Bill agreed that they were a good crowd this week; passengers that seemed to ‘gel’ and get along well together.

  ‘Sounds like a bloomin’ aviary in here,’ Arthur commented. ‘All these women chattering away like budgerigars.’

  ‘Not only the women, Arthur,’ his wife reminded him. ‘The men are doing their fair share. Now, it’s veal cutlets tonight for the main course, according to the menu. You’ll be alright with that, so long as you go easy on the dumplings.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll be fine. Stop fussing, Mavis. That onion soup was watery. I’m ready for something more substantial.’

  The veal was tender and very palatable; small cutlets in breadcrumbs served with noodles and pickled cabbage. Arthur pushed the cabbage to one side.

  ‘Can’t say I’m right keen on that. Why can’t they serve it like you do? Spring cabbage with nice tasty gravy.’

  ‘It’s called sauerkraut, Arthur. Not entirely to my liking either, but you know what they say. “When in Rome …”’

  ‘Aye, but we’re in Germany, aren’t we?’ He sat back in his chair, and Mavis noticed that he winced and put his hand to his stomach.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked. ‘Have you got that pain again?’

  ‘Just a twinge, that’s all. I’ve told you not to fuss. I’ll just sit quietly and happen it’ll go away.’

  Mavis looked at him anxiously. His face was pale, almost ashen. He sat motionless and closed his eyes as the waitress cleared away the plates.

  ‘You’d better not have the pudding,’ Mavis whispered to him. ‘It’s pancakes and they’ll be rather indigestible. What about a little portion of ice cream?’

  ‘No, I don’t want anything,’ he mumbled, as he suddenly clasped at his stomach and fell forward on to the table, knocking over a couple of glasses and making the cutlery jingle. The sound of that and of his groan of agony silenced the people on the nearby table.

  Mavis sprang to her feet. ‘Help him! Please help him, somebody …’

  Dave was at his side at once, and a man from the next table. Mike and Bill were soon at the scene and together they lifted Arthur and carried him out of the dining room into the lounge area. They laid him on a settee. His face was deathly pale but he was still breathing, in strangled gasps, as he struggled to get air into his lungs.

  Mike rushed to the reception desk where Olga, fortunately, was still on duty. ‘An ambulance,’ he told her. ‘Ring the hospital, Olga. Quickly, please. A man has collapsed. It looks like a heart attack.’

  Mavis sat at her husband’s side, holding on to his hand. ‘Arthur, I’m here with you. You’re going to be alright …’

  He could not speak to her. He looked at her pleadingly, then closed his eyes again, still gasping and struggling for breath.

  ‘I should have known it was more than indigestion,’ she whispered to Dave. ‘He’s having a heart attack, isn’t he? Oh, dear God! Why didn’t I realize what was the matter with him?’

  ‘You couldn’t have known,’ said Dave. ‘The symptoms are so similar. Mike’s rung for an ambulance so you won’t have long to wait. See … he looks a little easier now; he’s stopped gasping for breath.’

  Arthur was laid full length on the settee with cushions supporting his head. His eyes had closed and it seemed as though he had lost consciousness.

  ‘He’s not … he’s not gone, has he?’ Mavis murmured. ‘Oh God, please don’t let him die …’

  Dave took hold of Arthur’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. ‘No,’ he said. ‘There’s a pulse there, and it looks as though the spasm, or whatever it was, has passed. We’re all here with you, Mavis, all your new friends.’

  The rest of the people from the table – Jane, Shirley and Ellen – had come into the lounge. It would have been unfeeling to eat the dessert course; besides, they had all lost their appetites. The rest of the company carried on as normal with the delicious raisin pancakes in lemon sauce, but the hubbub in the room had dropped to a murmur.

  It seemed a long time as they waited for the ambulance, but it was really only ten minutes before the two men hurried into the hotel with a stretcher and blankets. They talked together quietly as they examined Arthur, then they lifted him on to the stretcher, fitted an oxygen mask to his face and covered him with a red blanket.

  One of the men spoke to Mavis. ‘You are his wife, ya?’

  ‘Yes, I’m Mrs Johnson,’ she replied. ‘You’re taking him to hospital?’

  ‘Ya … We will take good care of him. Frau Johnson, you come with us, please? Come with your husband. We take him to hospital, in Freiburg.’

  ‘Oh … oh yes, of course. I didn’t realize …’

  ‘Yes, you go along with him, Mrs Johnson,’ said Mike. ‘He’ll be in good hands there. And they’ll see that you get back safely, or one of us will come and get you. Try not to worry too much.’

  Jane and Dave and the two drivers went with the little party as Arthur was carried outside into the waiting ambulance. Mavis climbed into the back looking scared and bewildered, but she smiled and waved bravely to them as the vehicle drove away.

  ‘What a shock!’ said Jane as she and Dave sat down in the lounge. They had missed the pudding but there was no point in going without the coffee as well. ‘How awful for this to happen on their holiday. They were enjoying it so much. Oh dear! It casts a gloom over everything, doesn’t? And it was all so lovely …’

  Dave took hold of her hand. ‘Let’s hope for the best,’ he said. ‘At least he was still breathing. My father died of a heart attack. It was very sudden, just like it was with Arthur. But Dad had gone, straight away. There was nothing anyone could do. It was a tremendous shock for us all. I don’t know, of course, but I should think there’s every chance that Arthur will recover.’

  There was no longer the happy chatter that there had been earlier in the evening. There was a far more subdued atmosphere in the lounge. Little groups sat together talking quietly, a few playing cards, and others reading a book or magazine.

  Shirley and Ellen joined Dave and Jane, all of them concerned about Arthur but trying to look on the bright side.

  ‘I’ll tell you something,’ said Shirley in a thoughtful, almo
st penitent voice. ‘I’m feeling quite ashamed of myself. Making all that fuss because I have to wear the same clothes for a few days! Whatever must you think of me?’

  ‘We understand,’ said Jane, reaching over and patting her hand. ‘The women do at any rate. We all like to look our best, don’t we, wearing the nice new things we’ve bought for our holiday? But I do know what you mean. Something like this puts our own little problems into perspective, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I meant,’ said Shirley. ‘Poor Arthur! And Mavis, too. She thinks the world of him, doesn’t she? You can tell she does.’

  ‘And he of her,’ added Ellen. ‘Such a nice old couple; though I’m sure they don’t think of themselves as old.’

  ‘No, and it’s a lesson for all of us,’ said Dave, ‘to make the most of the time we’ve been given. Seize the moment. You never know what’s round the next corner.’

  Jane was aware of Dave looking at her, and they exchanged a brief and rather sad smile. Shirley and Ellen left them before long, both deciding they would go to their rooms and read. It wasn’t long before the other two decided that they would do the same.

  ‘I’ll go and read my adventure story,’ said Dave. ‘It might help to take my mind off things.’

  ‘And I’m in the middle of a Maeve Binchy,’ said Jane. ‘A nice comforting read.’

  He kissed her fondly as they said goodnight at her bedroom door, and she clung to him for a moment.

  ‘Try not to worry,’ he told her. ‘There’s nothing we can do … except to say a little prayer. And I’m sure we’ll have a lovely day again tomorrow. Goodnight, Jane … my dear.’

  It was after eleven thirty when Mavis arrived back from the hospital. The staff there had been very kind to her and had sent her back in one of their smaller vehicles as there was a temporary lull at that time.

  The hotel was in darkness apart from one light shining in the reception area. Fortunately she had her key with her, and she crept along the corridor towards her room at the far end. Then she stopped in her tracks. She didn’t feel like going into an empty room, not just yet. Surprisingly she was wide awake, not tired by the events of the day, and relieved, of course, that there was now slightly more encouraging news of Arthur. It would be good to have a chat with someone, and perhaps a cup of tea before turning in for the night.

  Jane! She would go upstairs and see if Jane was not yet in bed. She had told Mavis that she sat up late reading before going to sleep. Jane’s room was on the first floor. There was, in fact, only one floor above the ground level. The light was on a time switch, allowing only just enough time to climb the stairs before you were plunged into darkness again. Jane’s room, too, was at the end of the corridor, and Mavis hurried along before the light went out again. Everything was dead quiet and a little eerie with no one around. There was a fanlight above each door, so you could tell whether the occupant was still up or had gone to bed.

  Good. There was still a light shining in room thirty-two; Mavis had noticed the number on Jane’s gigantic key. She lifted her hand to knock, then she hesitated. Supposing Jane was not alone? Supposing … Dave was with her? She knew that the couple were getting very friendly, and she had seen the way they looked at one another. Unless she was very much mistaken the two of them were falling in love. They had known one another for only four days, but feelings could be heightened in the free and easy holiday atmosphere. And who could blame them if …

  Mavis prided herself on being broad-minded. She had a daughter a few years older than Jane, happily married, fortunately, and a son two years older who had been married, divorced, then married again. So she had been with them in their various joys and sorrows. She guessed though, that Jane was a very circumspect sort of woman and would not commit herself until she was very sure.

  The corridor light went out, and she decided to take a chance. She knocked at the door. A moment or two passed before she heard the sound of quiet footsteps. Then the door opened just a fraction and a nervous voice whispered, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s me … Mavis,’ she answered. ‘Sorry if I’m disturbing you, but your light was on and I felt as though I needed to talk to someone before—’

  ‘Oh … Mavis, of course!’ Jane interrupted as she opened the door fully. She was wearing a pretty pink housecoat and matching slippers. ‘Come on in. I was startled for a moment, wondering who it was. Anyway, how is Arthur? That’s the important thing.’

  ‘He’s recovering quite well, at least that’s what I’m trying to tell myself,’ said Mavis as she entered the room. Then she suddenly burst into tears. Jane put an arm round her and guided her across to the bed, where they sat down.

  ‘Oh, Jane, I’m so sorry,’ she began. ‘It’s been such a worry and I’ve been trying to be brave. I thought he was dying, really I did.’

  ‘But he’s getting better?’ Jane asked encouragingly. ‘He’s come round now, has he?’

  ‘Yes, he regained consciousness when we got to the hospital. He recognized me, but he didn’t speak. It was a heart attack, like I thought. Well, I thought it was just bad indigestion at first. We’d no idea that Arthur had a bad heart. He’s had palpitations in the past, and his blood pressure is high at times; he takes tablets for that. But we never expected this.’

  ‘He’s in the best place now,’ said Jane. ‘And they’ve let you come home … well, come back here. It’s not home – no doubt you wish you were there – but you’ve got friends around you here. They must be satisfied with his progress.’

  ‘Yes, he’s in intensive care at the moment, or whatever they call it here, and he’ll have to stay in hospital for a few more days. We’ll have to take a day at a time with regard to the holiday and everything. I shall go back there and stay with him tomorrow; they said it didn’t matter about sticking to visiting hours. I can be there with him till we see how things go. I’m afraid we’ve rather spoilt the holiday for everyone, haven’t we?’

  ‘We’re all very concerned,’ said Jane. ‘And they’ll all be pleased that Arthur’s recovering. Now, Mavis; how about a cup of tea?’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ she replied, ‘if you’re sure it’s not too late for you?’

  ‘I was on the last chapter of my Maeve Binchy,’ said Jane. ‘That’s why I was up late. I’ll finish reading it tomorrow. I’m ready for another cuppa now.’

  Mavis stayed a little while with Jane, until they both realized that they were trying to suppress their yawns. It had been a long and eventful day, especially for Mavis. She kissed Jane on the cheek as she said goodnight, as though she was an old friend.

  ‘May I ask, do you go to church?’ she enquired. Jane replied that she did, not all the time, but that she did believe in God.

  ‘Would you say a little prayer, then, for Arthur?’ asked Mavis. ‘I believe that it might help.’ Jane assured her that she would do so, straightaway, before she got into bed.

  Mavis switched on the corridor light and made her way along the passage and down the stairs to her own room. Whatever had happened – or was still to happen – on this holiday, she felt that she had made a few good friends, ones that she hoped would stand the test of time.

  Twelve

  Mavis was touched and overwhelmed at breakfast time the following morning by the enquiries about Arthur. Almost everyone from the coach came to ask about him and send their good wishes. And at the end of the meal Mike gave her a ‘Get Well’ card signed by them all, to take to him. She guessed that this sort of thing had happened before, a passenger being taken ill and rushed into hospital. It was a very thoughtful gesture that she appreciated and she knew that Arthur would, as well.

  She hoped that what she was telling them all – that he had come round and was recovering nicely – was true, and that he hadn’t had a relapse during the night. She would know soon enough; she would be returning to the hospital in a little while, while the rest of the company prepared for the day’s excursion to the spa town of Baden Baden.

  Mavis was pleasan
tly surprised when Herr Grunder, the proprietor, offered to run her to the hospital. She had intended taking a taxi, but he insisted on taking her. It was above and beyond the call of duty, and very kind of him. Everyone was being so kind and thoughtful. She hoped that Arthur might be changing his mind about this country and its inhabitants.

  The trip to Baden Baden would be the longest excursion of the week, and so the coach party set off at the rather earlier time of nine o’clock. It was some seventy miles away – or 110 kilometres, if you had got used to the metric calculation – and it was hoped that they would arrive in time for lunch, after a morning coffee stop en route.

  Bill was at the wheel, and the now seasoned travellers settled back comfortably in their seats. Mike gave the commentary as they drove along. Most of them listened, especially if they wished to learn and – hopefully – remember as much as they could about their holiday. Others dozed off after a little while, but not really because they were tired. The motion of the coach had a soporific effect.

  They were travelling northwards along the route which led, eventually, to France and Switzerland. The spa town was situated in the most northerly foothills of the Black Forest.

  ‘Baden Baden is so good they named it twice, like New York!’ said Mike.

  He told them that it had originally been know just as Baden, but had been given its double name later partly because it was the town of Baden in the state of Baden Wurtenburg but also to distinguish it from other towns with the same name: Baden near Vienna and Baden in Switzerland.

  It had long been a celebrated resort visited by the rich and famous, partly for health reasons – its hot springs had been known about since Roman times – but also because it was the popular place to be, the premier European capital of pleasure in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Queen Victoria had stayed there. So had her son Edward the Seventh, lured there by his love of horse racing and gambling at its famous casino, and by his pursuit of lovely ladies!