Alice nodded. ‘And then there’s the financial side of it. It costs a pretty penny to live here, doesn’t it? I’d have dismissed it out of hand at one time. Good grief! It costs as much as a three-star hotel.’
Flora laughed. ‘You can’t take it with you, Alice. I don’t know how you’re fixed with regard to money, but you have your teacher’s pension, haven’t you? And your widow’s and state pensions as well? Those could cover the cost of staying here.’
‘They may well do so,’ said Alice. ‘And I’ve a bit put by from the sale of my house. I hoped I’d be able to leave it intact for Jane to inherit, but no doubt I’ll have to break into it.’
‘From what I’ve heard about your Jane I’m sure she would want what was the best for you.’ Flora smiled at her. ‘I’m really pleased and honoured that you decided to talk it over with me, Alice, and I hope I’ve been able to help you. I’d love you to stay, but you must do whatever you and Jane think is best.’
‘Yes of course,’ said Alice. ‘I’ll see what Jane is like when she comes to pick me up on Thursday. If I feel she might be quite agreeable to the idea of me staying here, then I’ll tell her what I’m considering. But if I think she might not be too happy about it, then I might have to put it on hold for a while. I don’t want to upset the lass. Like I was saying, I got the impression that there was something on her mind. I know we’ve not always got on together as well as we might, but I know her inside-out by now. I should do, she’s my only daughter …’ And one who is very dear to me, she added, silently to herself. ‘I’ll just have to wait and see. Thank you for listening to me, Flora. You’ve helped me a lot, but I know it has to be my decision in the end.’
The journey home, across Germany, Belgium and France, all in one day, was quite a marathon for the passengers as well as for the drivers, and there was not the same excited chatter as there had been on the outward journey.
They had set off from the guest house at seven thirty in the morning, following a breakfast during which none of them felt as bright and bushy-tailed as they had on previous mornings. It was early for the staff to be up and about, and the guests had served themselves coffee, left on the table in large flasks, and a more limited choice of breakfast foods.
Johann and Marianne Grunder were both at the coach, however, to wish them goodbye and a safe journey home. They all agreed that they had been a marvellous host and hostess. Mike and Bill were particularly sad at the thought that they would not meet up with them again, although it had been their own decision to finish with the Continental tours.
As the miles – or kilometres – sped by, the passengers dozed, catching up with lost sleep, or tried to read, or just watched the scenery, firstly the hills and woods to which they had become accustomed, then the flatter fields and the nondescript towns of Belgium, viewed in the distance from the motorway as they flashed past the window.
There were stops every few hours, as was obligatory, at service stations, and from time to time, Mike or Bill put on a tape of ‘easy listening’ music, or one of an Irish comedian – a tape very popular with the coach drivers – whose jokes and witticisms had many of them quietly chuckling. Anything to relieve the inevitable boredom of the long and rather tedious journey.
Mavis was concerned about Arthur. He dozed for much of the time and appeared to be coping very well with everything, considering his recent heart attack. She was watching him continually, though surreptitiously – Arthur hated anyone fussing over him – but she knew she would utter a prayer of thanks when they had finally crossed the Channel and had set foot once again on English soil. It would probably be the last time they would travel abroad, but she hoped they would have several more years together, and there were lots of interesting places to visit nearer to home.
Shirley and Ellen chatted together, although it was Shirley, as usual, doing most of the talking. They had known one another for many years but they were never short of things to say or discuss. Ellen was filled with a quiet happiness that she was keeping very much to herself. She had had a lovely evening with Trevor and, at a time when Shirley and Malcolm were dancing together and the two of them were on their own, they had exchanged addresses and telephone numbers. Trevor had seemed eager that they should arrange to meet when they got back home, and Ellen believed that he was sincere in what he said. She was hugging the secret to herself. She would tell Shirley, of course, in her own good time, but at the moment she did not want her private affairs shouting from the roof tops. The four of them, Shirley and Ellen and the two brothers sat together at the coffee and comfort stops, chatting as a foursome. Trevor seemed to understand how Ellen felt – which boded well for the future – and was careful not to draw attention to their blossoming friendship.
Conversation between Jane and Dave did not flow as easily as it had done on the outward journey when they were getting to know one another and had found lots of things to talk about. Now, of course, although they knew much more about one another, a certain constraint had built up between them. Dave, far more sanguine than Jane, tried to chat unconcernedly, but Jane, although she tried to act as though things were quite normal, was finding it difficult to respond. They did not refer, during the long journey back across the Continent, to the problems that had arisen in their relationship, but Jane knew – and she was sure that Dave knew as well – that something would need to be said before they parted company back in England the following day.
They both read their books, or tried to do so, although Jane found that her mind was wandering. She could not concentrate even on the latest Ruth Rendell offering. She had finished her Maeve Binchy, a nice comfortable read, and maybe she was not in the mood for murder and intrigue, although she kept her eyes glued to the page, making a good pretence at being engrossed in the story.
The motorway cafe in Belgium where they had their lunch stop was very busy and they waited in a long queue to be served with soup and a bread roll, and a slice of apple tart. A situation that might have seemed unique and interesting on the outward journey – the chatter of foreign voices, the pleasant aroma of the various foods being cooked, and the exciting feeling of being abroad – now seemed to have lost its appeal. Jane was only aware of the crowded eating place and of the way they had to hurry with their meal. Because of the length of the journey Mike could allow only forty-five minutes for the lunch break, although it seemed certain that not everyone would be back in time.
As it happened they all managed to return to the coach only a few minutes later than requested. Arthur and Mavis were the last, but nobody minded about that. Arthur had been determined not to ‘gobble my dinner and have an attack of indigestion’. Or worse, thought Mavis, who was in total agreement. This journey was proving to be very tedious. How relieved she would be when they arrived at the hotel in Calais and she was able to get her feet up and rest her swollen ankles, a hazard of coach travel that she had found to be worse than ever during this holiday.
It was six o’clock in the evening when they arrived at the Calais hotel, where they had stayed on the outward journey. It was, therefore, familiar to them, and knowing their way around did help somewhat when they were feeling tired and maybe a little irritable. However, a wash and brush up and, in many cases, a drink at the bar did revive everyone’s spirits and put them in a better frame of mind for the evening meal.
This time the tables were set for eight. Jane remembered that on the first visit she and Dave had sat with and become friendly with Mavis and Arthur. The four of them sat together now, with two other couples whom they had met up with now and again during the holiday. They all knew one another now, to a certain extent, and conversation was largely about the sights they had seen, what they had enjoyed the most and, inevitably, polite enquiries about Arthur’s present state of health. How had he coped with the wearisome journey? He answered their questions with as much patience as he could muster, telling them he was as fit as a fiddle, but he would be glad to sleep in his own bed again, a feeling that they all endorsed.
/> The meal was pretty much the mixture as before – onion soup, roast chicken and pommes frites, followed by fruit and ice cream. Everyone was hungry after a makeshift lunch and there was very little left on any of the plates.
Coffee was served afterwards in the lounge, but by that time it was turned ten o’clock. Mavis and Arthur declined the coffee saying that they would go straight to bed. Jane and Dave sat with a couple they had dined with, for the sake of politeness more than anything. Then they, too, decided it was time to call it a day.
The two of them took the lift to the third floor. As before, their rooms were adjacent. They paused at the doors ready to enter the rooms with their giant keys. Dave leaned towards Jane, taking hold of her shoulders in a gentle grasp.
‘Don’t worry, my dear,’ he said. ‘It will all sort out, I feel sure it will.’ He kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Goodnight now, and God bless. See you in the morning.’
‘Yes … see you, Dave,’ she replied, smiling bravely at him.
Tears were threatening as she entered the room and closed the door behind her. She blinked them away, determined not to give in to the negative thoughts that were invading her mind. Could there be a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel? Dave seemed to think so.
‘Don’t worry,’ he had just said. ‘It will all sort out …’
Did he really believe that, or was he just trying to cheer her up? Maybe she had been living in a fool’s paradise ever since she met him just over a week ago. He did not know her mother like she did; in fact, he did not know Alice at all. If he did then he might have a better idea of what she was up against. She and her mother lived together. Jane had offered to share her home with her, willingly – well, as willingly as she was able, she confessed to herself – and that was that. How could she, now, cast her aside, ‘like an old worn-out coat.’ She could almost hear her mother saying the words, or something similar.
And that was not the only problem, even if the living arrangements for Alice could be sorted out. Her mother would go ballistic at the idea of Jane consorting with a man who was still married, even if it was only in name.
Stop it! Stop it! Jane scolded herself. Going over and over the problem only made it worse. Resolutely she undressed and washed and got into bed, setting her little clock for six o’clock. Their cases had to be outside their rooms by seven, and after an early breakfast they would depart at eight for the short journey to the docks.
Fortunately her tortuous thoughts stilled when her head touched the pillow. It had been a tiring day. Sitting still for hours on end on a coach could be just as wearying as a ten-mile hike. Despite her worries she slept until the alarm clock woke her the following morning.
Twenty-One
The sky was grey and overcast and there was a chilly wind blowing when they boarded the coach on the Wednesday morning, following a somewhat hurried breakfast. A very different outlook from the sunshine that had greeted them on their arrival in France and had blessed them for almost the whole of the holiday.
The cross-channel ferry was not so crowded as it had been on the outward journey. They were all used to the procedure by now; they knew the whereabouts of the cafes, bars, shops and toilets, and it no longer seemed quite so strange. Once again the coach was parked near to a staircase, so should be easy to locate when the journey of ninety minutes or so was completed.
Jane and Dave were still together. There seemed to be no way they could separate without appearing impolite or difficult. After all, they had not fallen out, but just come face to face with a load of problems.
Jane, however, did go off to the shops on her own when they had enjoyed a cup of strong coffee and a scone. The breakfast had been rather a hit and miss affair with no one feeling particularly hungry.
‘Yes, off you go and treat yourself,’ said Dave. He grinned at her. ‘You don‘t want me hanging around.’ Shopping, especially in gift shops and the like was something that men only did under protest. She recalled that Tom, an ideal husband in many ways, had preferred to leave Jane to shop on her own, and no doubt Dave was of the same inclination.
Jane felt her spirits rise when she entered the shop. There was a fragrant aroma of perfume, and the shelves were full of all manner of tempting goods, many of them less expensive than in the high street shops … but still by no means cheap! Radley handbags and purses, silk scarves, watches and exquisite costume jewellery. Jane looked but did not linger. To indulge in a new scarf or earrings, for instance, would be an extravagance.
But she did ponder at length over the various perfumes: Chanel, Dior, Estée Lauder, Givenchy, Lance, Rochas. There were tester bottles available, and she sprayed each wrist and the back of her hands trying to decide which one she preferred. In the end she was quite bewildered as all the scents merged into one.
An attractive girl with an oriental look came to assist her. ‘May I help you, madam?’ she asked politely.
‘Yes, please,’ said Jane. ‘Something light and flowery, not too musky …’
After sampling one or two more she finally decided on ‘Dolce Vita’ by Dior. Expensive! But cheaper than in it would be in Debenhams, and what did it matter? She had several euros left and it would save the trouble of changing it back into sterling currency.
The adjoining shop sold cigarettes, wines and spirits, none of which was of interest to Jane, but there was a tempting display of confectionery and chocolates. She bought two boxes of marzipan chocolates, one flavoured with strawberry and the other with apricot brandy, for herself and her mother; then a huge bar of Toblerone, which she had loved ever since she was a little girl. Her purchases had taken care of most of her remaining euros. She felt much more light-hearted now. It was amazing what a spot of retail therapy could do, although it was something in which she rarely indulged.
‘I thought you’d got lost overboard!’ said Dave when she reappeared in the lounge. ‘All spent up?’
‘Almost,’ she said with a smile.
He stood up. ‘Just time to pay a visit,’ he remarked, ‘then it’ll be almost time for us to find our way back.’
All the passengers arrived back at the coach with time to spare.
‘We were nearly the first,’ boasted Mavis. ‘Weren’t we, Arthur? We didn’t keep you waiting this time.’
‘Aye, so we were,’ said Arthur. ‘I was damn glad to get off that boat, rocking and rolling like a switchback.’ He looked rather tired and pale, and Jane was sure it would be a great relief to him, and to Mavis as well, when they were safely back home. The sail had, indeed, been slightly choppy, but not unduly so. Ships were far more stable now than they had been years ago. She remembered her first trip abroad on a school visit to France. No one had actually been sick, although they had felt decidedly queasy.
Anyway, here they were, back on English soil, and as the coach pulled away from the dock area it was raining. Not pouring down, but a steady drizzle from a grey sky that showed no sign of a break in the cloud; a day that was typical of many in an English summer.
‘Put your watches back an hour, ladies and gents,’ Mike told them. So it was only ten minutes past nine, although they all felt that they had been up and about for ages.
The coach sped along the motorways, heading northwards. Not the most interesting of journeys, but the quickest route back to the north of England. There was friendly chatter and laughter along the way as new friends called to one another, exchanging addresses and promising to keep in touch.
Jane saw that Mavis and Arthur in the seat across the aisle were holding hands for much of the time. A real Darby and Joan couple, she reflected. Whatever might happen between herself and Dave she must not lose touch with these two elderly friends. Their home town of Blackburn was not very far from Preston. It would be easy to pay them a visit, and her mother might enjoy meeting them, too, if she could be persuaded to go.
They stopped mid-morning at one of the huge impersonal motorway services. Jane left Dave chatting to another couple and sought out Mavis and Arthur.
‘Here’s my address and telephone number,’ she said to Mavis, handing her a postcard with a picture of the market square in Freiburg, ‘and could you give me yours, please? You can write it here at the back of my diary.’
‘Of course, my dear,’ said Mavis, getting out her biro. ‘We would love to see you again sometime – and quite soon, I hope – wouldn’t we, Arthur?’
‘I’ll say we would,’ he agreed, beaming at Jane, and she could tell that he meant it. ‘It’s been lovely meeting you this week, and your nice gentleman friend as well!’
‘How is it going, my dear?’ asked Mavis in a confidential tone. ‘Forgive me if I’m being nosy, but I know the two of you have become … quite friendly.’
Jane had not told anyone of the problems that had arisen, only hinted to Ellen that they had encountered one or two snags. Her face dropped a little as she replied.
‘We’re not too sure. There’s my mother to consider, and Dave’s farm. It’s not all that easy.’
Mavis patted her hand. ‘Life is seldom easy,’ she said, ‘but he’s worth fighting for, believe me. One only has to see the pair of you together …’
Jane nodded and tried to smile, but she felt incipient tears pricking at her eyes as she remembered that very soon she and Dave would be parting company. And he was still putting on a front of cheerfulness and normality. Or was it just a show of bravado?
‘Must go now,’ she said. ‘It’s nearly time to go back to the coach, and I need to visit the ladies’ room.’
The lunch stop was at a similar venue further north. All these stopping places were much of a muchness, and at midday were usually crowded with long queues for sandwiches, soup, salads, hot meals, Costa coffee, soft drinks, or ‘do it yourself’ tea and coffee. Then there was the ubiquitous WH Smith shop where you could while away the remaining minutes before it was time to continue with the journey.
First Impressions Page 25
